The Grand Illusion

There is no superhero

roaming the cosmos

balancing the cataclysmic forces

in limitless space for our

precise and mutual benefit .

 

There is no wondrous savior

ready to descend into the

human firmament

to rescue humanity from its own

reckless behavior.

 

There is no grand

all-encompassing master plan,

no magnificent paradise

engineered for the truly saved,

no other-worldly place

of eternal succor,

no fiendish caldron of

suffering and damnation,

no transcendent peace or place of

infinite interminable suffering.

 

There is an insatiable quiet

within the molecular void of

empty space,

there is an inspired chorus of

galaxies in riotous collision,

black holes that bend light into

utter darkness.

  

We are transient time travelers

marooned on spaceship earth,

moving through the generations

hapless and alone,

magnificent yet fragile,

blessed yet beseiged by

aching and profound consciousness.

 

Life is ours to fathom

within all its

fabulous and alluring

manifestations.

 

Life is ours to experience

own up to and

embrace.

 

No heavenly guidance,

no celestial validation,

no prophets that will descend

from lofty perches,

there is no rapture,

there is no escape.

 

Life is ours to comprehend

or neglect,

life is ours to appreciate

or discard,

life is ours to enhance

or abuse,

choice lies within

not held hostage in

some remote and distant

otherness.

 

Whether we persist

or descend into our own

particular and disastrous conclusion,

time unfolds,

the universe endures,

existence prevails within the

scope of the ever-present moment.