Thursday, October 16, 2003

 

Initial impeti

As a product of
my culture, my good-til date
has, frankly, expired

Civilization
to me, has run its due course
I want to be free

I'll live in a hut
in a tree or on a beach
healing with the earth

With that connection
in that green field of vision
is where we evolve

Now, I'm not proposing that we should all run off into the woods and eat nuts and fuck in the mud, as do John Zerzan et al., but I do agree with Zerzan about the tyrrany of time and certain other important things. The earth cries out to be defended and discussed, and I see clearly that conservation is not enough. It's also obvious that these issues strike so closely at the heart of our collective psychosis that we have systematically retreated into a dangerous state of denial. I have begun to feel the pain of the earth in my very bones, and they insist that mere symptom control will not solve the problem. In fact, our problems are so deep and manifold that their successful tackling will require a complete transformation of consciousness. I use the word "transformation" advisedly: It embodies both destruction and regeneration. I have felt this imperative since childhood, yet only now am I finally ready to be inconvenienced in deference to it. I am not sure where to start; so I start here, with this.

But oh, to disappear into the wild!

I have a dream
Two hundred acres of forest land with streams and springs
And at least one big open field
Canyons, caves, gulleys and other features would be nice
Five or six shares, with private and communal territories well defined
A gathering place for wayward individuals of all kinds
Where proprietors and their guests are free to come and go at whim or will
Always knowing they are welcome and will be fed if they need it
Nuts and berries in the woods, and a small natural garden
Whence we keep the communal kitchen stocked
And constantly turning out hearty, healthy food
Experiments in sustainable building, permaculture and prosperous anarchy,
In which all beings contribute according to their talents and interests
And everything gets done in an entirely organic fashion
Without leaders or followers, but all students, all seekers
I dream of sleeping under a giant redwood, moist ferns breathing gently by the stream
I dream of planting things and finding magic mushrooms and dancing in the moonlight
Humming to the stars and talking to the animals
Frolicking and lounging, frolicking, and lounging some more, hammocks everywhere
Building, gardening, marketing, cooking, bushwhacking, trailblazing—yes
But frolicking and lounging; frolicking and lounging are key
Ah to frolic and lounge away the live long day
In my forest retreat not too far from the bay
And sail away on my silky slip of mind
To a time out of time in a place no one can trace
And hum, hum delight, hum delight til my throat tingles
And my spine becomes naturally erect with the altogether of it all
Down with it; so down with it am I
And up for it; so up for it—I cannot deny that this is what I’ve always wanted
Ever since my first hike into the woods, or night out under the stars
The cities of the world have delighted me with their detritus
But quiet calls, peace and clear air call, my fairy friends in the fern glades call
Come join us, come join us here in the frondy fearless depths of the earth spirit
And trance and dance the human mind into realms beyond the bend of reality
Where truth and beauty are the components of breathable air
And bounty abounds, and sharing is fair and natural
Where a walk in the woods can create the space needed for the birthing of an epic
And a snug little house of clay and twigs nurtures it to a form
That can be put forth into the world, bringing bounty back with it
Bounty and delight, and a yearning for flight, a closeness to flying
A dream of wings, a dream that seeds the everyday with wild sprouts
That sing and grow towards the confluence of all things
And the sweet, languid passage of the years
In a paradise of one’s own devising
Revising reality
One moment at a time

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?