Shining threads

Shining threads

Thursday, 27 July 2017

The Perfect Storm

Thunder came announced,
just after unexpected lightning.

It could have been many things - fireworks, a flashlight, an alien landing - but this time - it was a naturalistic abruption. (it's okay to make up new words)

They appropriated the discourse of Silicon Valley - declared a disruptive political movement.

Not playing by the rules. Introduce something new.

A perfect storm.

Storms are morally neutral.

A performance, an interruption, a tantrum, a crescendo of preceding heat, a destruction, a cleansing.

An assertion of Nature's partial dominion.

The balance of power varies, between the gods of natural phenomena and the entities that construct their lives within the [spectrum of existence].

The perfect storm is almost too much. It strikes with an awesome wrath which has no mercy and yet we indulge its excesses, out of respect and a sense of impotence with regards to this overwhelming electrical frenzy.

These days we are safe, as long as the waters do not rise too high and the trees are not felled in the direction of our dwellings.

These days we are safe, with our technological belongings and virtual networks and multiple media streams.

The predictions seem off-kilter, wild, an out-of-control spiral into a dystopic environmental desolation.

We can handle these discrete storms, marginal increases in heat and #flash-fires# & #flash-floods#.

The every-day people do not do the maths. We just want a quiet life.

And so the SUM of the equation, a progressive addition, subtraction, multiplication and division to overall elemental outcome, remains obscure.

Nobody knows - only these models can predict and philosophers can theorise and sages can warn.

We know disaster is possible. We know one person, one house, one village, one country can disappear into withered atrophy. The ways of destruction are many.

Yet this sense of a world in danger is too much of a           leap for those who find a complex holistic vision distasteful - as if Enlightenment were an overreach of polite conduct, which must restrain truth and expression, in order to keep a civilised sense of, if not peace, then at least lack of disruption. Scepticism keeps reality at a safe distance. The discrete whispers of the unconscious can be easily ignored.

And then the Perfect Storm strikes.

Always outside. From the perspective of the sheltered.

It reminds us.

Thunder and lightning are symbols of our elemental power.

When we can match their intensity, then we will have arrived.

It is not dying, just forever.

It is not dying.
Not the flower.
Not the cells.
Not the meal in front of you.
Not fish
But perhaps the river
which cycles through Earth and Sky.

It is not dying.
Not the cat.
Not the tree.
Not the latest trend.
Not flame
But perhaps the fire
which burns everlastingly,
casting its gaze over all sparks.

It is not dying.
Alchemical recipes.
Haloed words
Which animate the air.
Resonating through the ages.
Despite the rhythms of existence.

It is not dying.
Poetic vision draws forth.
And those few that walk into the fulfillments
Of promises made amidst dark despair and disparity.
Faith which was realised through movement and constancy.

It is not dying.
Infinite transformations
Despite transcendental sublimities.
We enjoy BOTH.
And between alertness and relaxation,
Eternal expressions of endless fascination.

Tuesday, 4 July 2017

Silicon beach

The radiance of machine dreams
Stream data from the sea
And the quiet hum
Of electric rum and coke
Sipped on this silicon beach.