Intuitions, 1.

in poetry •  6 years ago 

Science is not the upholder of mystery
nor the keeper of the flame
or protector of innocence,
Science is the informant
of our misperception,
Waiting to become the revealer
of our new, small,
but certainly not trivial,
perspective.

Our misperception goes along like this:
When supreme victory is achieved,
what is experienced is first
a great swelling of pride,
paired with celebration, then
an exhorbitant weight of confusion
encroaching on a directionless night.

We have achieved this victory,
experienced the swell of pride
into our corpuscular nature,
celebrated the sweetness of our
physicality, the victory bestowed us,
and have now, long been surrounded
on all sides, by the directionless night.
It is our time to depart once again,
towards day, towards light.

This is our choice. But,
the celebration, now a
hedonistic death rite,
must reverse itself
into a sacrifice of what is lower
for what is rightly higher.

What is higher is what we
once knew, to be our striving
for what is lower.
And what is lower, is what
we once experienced as our
understanding of what is higher.
Memory will serve us again,
once we are able to defend
mystery, awe, and wonder
through no system of
earthly prooving.

The time is upon us,
to let go of the body as our
master of ceremony,
and begin to place trust
back into realms of being
we once placed trust.
The body will not be left behind,
This will not be the case at all,
rather, the physical body will
continue to join with us, in ways
of harmony, that depend on
proper ordering.

All of history appears to be against us
because we have not found
our right memory.
But the work of our ancestors
will ring the temple bells,
cracking all the false sheaths
of perception, when we begin
to walk to that place
look to that place
speak to that place
that our unknown intuition
devotedly preserves.

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