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MYSTICAL VOYAGER Apr 2016
Understanding planetary crisis
view with evolutionary eyes memory of 14 billion years behold
struggle to evolve
from this vantage point
either side of the coin
of current situation breakdown
environmental personal social now
evolutionary drivers pushing across
towards a new galactic humanity most
crisis's occurring are needed
bringing awakening of species heeded
responding to these crisis's
a new focus arises
from compassion and creativity
taking a quantum jump collectively
capable of conscious evolution
co-creating with nature in union
planetary management social transformation
although a dangerous time
entering nature leading to
a universal humanity true
far transcending our current world
more responsible foretold
managing complex ecological system
pro-creation to co-creation rhythm
all members of a planetary body
multidimensional rebirth not oddly
David  Jul 2015
Untitled
David Jul 2015
It always rains this time of year, though I'm not even sure what month it is. November, maybe.
Does it usually rain in November?
I was too young to remember what they taught us about the seasons. I must've been about 6 when the last public schools closed down.
I often fall asleep to the sound of the rain tapping on the roof of the shelter. I've gotten used to it. I could fall asleep through the sound of a blizzard,through ghostly ghasps of the ghusting wind, through hail hitting the ground; afterall, I learned to sleep through the sound of bombs and gunfire as a child, so how could a little rain keep me awake?
It can't. So there must be something else, because though I am tired now, and it is only rain, I cannot sleep.
Even when I close my eyes, the eyes aching for some rest, it does not bring me closer to dritting into that sweet little slice of death I've come to know as sleep.
Perhaps if I make myself yawn and pretend I'm laying on a soft furry rug, facing a grand fireplace emitting a comforting warm kind-of breeze that washes over me like laying a nice hot bubble bath, with scented candles spread around the room, being intoxicated by that aroma that escapes the dying candles, melting, melting into a big mattress spread over a kingsized bed, melting under the silky smooth sheets, melting.
Melting.
Melting like the chocolate on a chocolate fondu.
Melting, just melting now.
Melting like steel after exposure to ******;
Melting like the buildings, houses, cars, the ******* ground, after the fiery armageddon of nukes fall over the cities of sleeping hummanity.
Melting like the face of a child unlucky enough to survive the explosion but to witness the fallout.
Melting like the flesh inside mass graves of irradiated, unrecognisable victims of human nature.
"Oh God" I am surprised to hear myself say as my eyes open up from such such visions of a godless world.
No, it's not the rain that keeps me awake.

— The End —