Before the Age of the Gods

The air is thin, between realms now we slip; reaching for
the god’s return, the age of chaos a gateway to Vico’s age of gods.

Chaos is the song of nature; all that cannot be contained;
growing wild like the Tao.

Now as civilization grows wild and chaotic, we find that
culture is an expression too, of nature; within city walls grows the Tao.

“Reversal is the movement of the Tao,” and so our pyramids and city walls
become the template for a latent spring.

Oil creeps up in our seas, the air grows thick; consumed by
the shadows we created, our underbelly becomes a new forest bed.

We sought to walk far from Nature’s wild hands, to escape her
vines; yet now we speak in rhizomes and our Kings are legends passed.

Like the valley, all our movements away have led us back to her.
And civilization is a movement of the Tao. Never separate.

Where do you walk, in New York Streets or hidden groves far from
roads? The way runs rivers of humanity, as it does fish in the sea.

If we do not see that nature is culture, in these days, how can we
hear what Lao Tzu had to say? How can we recognize true knowing?

New empires become old in a day, a triumph of centuries collapsed
in one turning of the Earth. Does time now become reaper or angel?

This basin attractor; Teilhard’s “omega,” and Taoist valley – she
beckons all that rises to return.

In the larger stretches of time, greater orders beyond the paintings
of cathedrals or spinning of a spiders web, come into being and pass.

This is not up to us to decide, but it is up to us how we wish to
participate, in the “turning of the age,” that ancients intuited.

The force behind the movement of the stars, heavens and cycles,
is not ancient, or new; it is a brimming over of the eternal.

We have forgotten to turn our inward eyes toward’s Eliade’s “eternal
return.” But it doesn’t mean that too isn’t part of the way of things.

We toss in our sleep and often forget the act of world creation we
participate in; and there is wisdom in that too we can’t contain.

Winter landscapes of amnesia; to some, just as brilliant as the

For me, I think it is time to remember these things. They may come
to aid us, like a long forgotten knowledge of who we truly are.

We “recollect” before the dawn; to participate with this larger
Imagination in creating a world beyond civilization.


5 thoughts on “Before the Age of the Gods

  1. Of great limbs gone to chaos,
    A great face turned to night—
    Why bend above a shapeless shroud
    Seeking in such archaic cloud
    Sight of strong lords and light?

  2. Just happened to be listening to Kula Shaker’s “Great Hosannah” as I read this – serendipitously apropos.

    With all the Earthquakes, solar flare activity and political turmoil intensifying worldwide as our planet swirls closer to the galactic nexus such thoughts as these have been foremost on my mind as well.

    Eloquently put, I especially like the statements negating any separation between natural and artificial. All just part of the cycle and we are indeed at the point of collective recall, which will hopefully not be too little too late.

    Soham – Tat Tvam Asi!

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