Has everything happened yet?
Is it a vicious circular motion?
We call the old by new names:
air, water, land,
space and fire.
A butterfly gets out of the palms,
flying towards the smiling flower,
which must be pollinated.
Here and now.
When you came out of the drop of fire,
they fell to their knees.
A new myth was created:
young wine was poured into the old barrel.
Your hair was golden
and beard and eyebrows too.
Your harmony and peace poured the space.
You've told everything the humans needed.
The only stones remember your words,
but no people.
Instead they created cargo cult.
They pray to you.
They call you God.
It's so ridiculous, isn't it?
14.31 04/05 2021
© Copyright: Valentin Luchenko, 2021