Did you hear what that old man was thinking?
Morphic resonance is the experimental name,
I think we are served by nodes on a net
not spread in the sight of any bird,
a chthonic net of stone,
girdling the globe in granite, crystalline granite,
take it for granted, these boulders are the witnesses,
the scars of catastrophe,
causing us to wonder
how came this to be? Think Yosemite, Ansel Adams POV
Think Matterhorn und Mt.Blanc,
Old Rockytop, and
Dos Cabezas and Long Valley Mountain, all that granite,
old as earth.
Listen.
Time is the idea we share at the moment,
Earth's is the life we share at the same time.
This is Spaceship Earth, looping Sol as Sol loops Sirius,
and there is no mothership,
no resupply.
This is the only earth, it has survived several civilized
monstrosities. As you know, some mortals can't
imagine not surviving with it, so
we words of earthbound muse,
let slip the bands of pride in time to see,
we are the music,
we make beauty behave as will believes, voluntarily,
it seems,
we choose beauty with little de
liberation, no need to
unlock ledgers and boxes of known safe knowns,
we imagine ourselves
defying the
de-ified con instituted authorities warning,
given us, they swear by the very vicars of the oil:
We warn you…
hell's the price, they swear, that we,
the people, pay for heresy,
dare not think those-
no, no, nor hear and see, or never imagine thinking
a selfish thought,
one you find curiously comforting, for you, your idea,
but
stop…
one heresy breeds another,
soon we shall have a collective
of individual minds agreeing at once,
as all see a particular arranging of colors, in a sunset's
single effortless existence as a thing
with mortal mindable beauty,
did you belive the sunset, or may you, if you wish?
__ unravel, and re ravel to save the thread,
it has lead through the maze before,
I have a witness who tests ifies.
Great unquarried granite, but that forms another story
upon precepts as yet
unglued, un-coagulated, ah, curdled, precepts cultural
curdle and clump together.
Biomes are adjusting the rethinking of pathos,
ethos shall follow,
as night follows day, just wait.
Patience is formed from memes more than experience,
you bet the old man was not lying.
Slow and steady, wins the grace. Take it easy. Fade away…
Real, actual realization, never seems poetic, in real life.
