The Universal Migrator

This is something new in the works. I’m not exactly sure where I should go with this; develop into a short story, maybe the beginning of a prologue to a long story? . . . Not sure. But I would certainly appreciate any suggestions. Thanks!

Solar arc near its end, the sure, relentless grip of shadow steadily mounts in its wake. Lunar dominance is yet a pale, mysterious orb suspended in the failing daylight sky. Such is that known as twilight time—when tides reflect the shifting of celestial dominion, and in the firmament is manifest the cadence of infinity. Birds—those with brilliance of color, as they who soar the uppermost thermals with fierce, farseeing gazes, ever questing for weakness and confusion upon which to prey—make to roost ‘ere their dark, brooding cousins, perched along crooked branches extending wildly from stout, ominous arbors, patiently await the folly of their nocturnal woodland brethren, upon which they would feed. Nearby, in his isolated madness, the lone wolf pains a cry of woe toward his rising master, hoping with his suffering to call forth the voice of forgiveness from his fallen brothers and sisters. For it was from his folly Death arose to harvest their vitality. Though it was not they who echoed his cry. It was the insoluble Breath of Creation flowing through existence; all that is, ever was and is yet to be—though to Creation all of the Ten Thousand Things are but one and simply is. The warmth of the Mother brought great comfort to the lone wolf, consoling his grief and reminding him of the True Path. The Breath of Creation encompasses all and is ever seeking to forge a balance between that which exists and that which does not exist. For Creation is not only master of life, but also that of death. It initiates all beginnings yet also requires demise to sustain the delicately balanced Circle.

Mankind is now all but blind of the True Path. Their untrusting senses are too often focused inward on petty wants and desires. Once there was a pure time for mankind, when they ran with the wolf and saw the world through the eagle’s eye. But then mankind grew clever and decided they no longer needed the companionship of the wolf to hunt, nor that of the eagle to touch the sky. Slowly mankind descended from the True Path and forgot the Song of Creation. Now all that they can hear of that music is the whispering of the wind, the roaring of the ocean and the rumbling of the earth. No longer do they hear the voice of their Mother in those sounds, but rather seek to give such things a logical explanation.

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 11:15 am under Tentative Works, Writing
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Out of the charred remnants of our sins
was risen a man who was destined to be
the initiator of a metamorphosis in reality

A vessel of the gods to bear the beginnings
of humankind’s altered destiny
Humbler of tainted souls—betrayers
of hope in vestigial tranquility

We’ve searched our hearts
and minds for enlightenment
Sought the answers through
individualism and conformity

Hoping through our pain
we will achieve salvation—
the culmination of volitions
made each and every day

Is wisdom the result of an empty void . . .
Or the knowledge of differential
perspectives of a common reality?

Will we find truth in self-meditation? . . .
Will it be found in the embrace of another,
Through outward exploration?

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 11:12 am under Adventures In Poetry
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So, do I believe in God, or even . . . a god? This is no simple question to be sure, yet at times I feel as though the answer may in actuality be of a most simple nature. I have, however, yet to realize this seemingly basic truth. Perhaps, if a newly born babe could tell of its recent journey from the realm beyond, could then that evasive truth be ensnared? But alas, none shall find their answers if sought by such means. For they who could communicate with such souls would need not a medium to the very gods themselves. But mayhap the question of greater import is why we have a desire or need to believe in a deity; why do we put such faith in these so-called greater beings? Maybe there are gods, but why should we obey them? Out of fear, out of the hope of reward? I have no faith in such divine beliefs. The only sovereign god in my life is reason; one who possesses no form, whether it be physical or ethereal. It is rather the force that drives the very cosmos in its seemingly eternal cycle of acceleration and deceleration.

Any supposed god who possesses any emotion is indeed not a being to be devotedly faithful toward. For are not emotions a human flaw, of which gods are supposedly lacking? Are not anger, vengeance, compassion and pity all the results of these flawed emotions? Why would I, a thinking emotional human being, put unquestionable faith into these gods of emotion? Would not these emotions produce a bias toward all creatures and things? Is not a god supposed to possess all the wisdom and strengths of which we mortals are wanting, and be stricken of all the weaknesses and wickedness of which we mortals possess so profusely? Surely if a god possessed characteristics tantamount to humanity then it too would have a tendency to strive toward the annexation of power and achieve it, at times, in a quite lecherous manner. Would you have faith in such a god? . . . One who would gain your faith through an incommensurable power that commands your devotion and absolute obedience, which the lack of such devotion and obedience would ensure an existence of potential pain and suffering? Or even a threat to simply be no more, forever outside of the grace of God?

But fear not I say! For they who call themselves gods(!) would show pity and forgiveness for those who would humble themselves and ask it; for those who find themselves astray from the path of devotion and are wise enough to seek guidance. So, do not seek out gods with your face in the dirt in search of your salvation. Instead I would say to you . . . Live your life with open eyes and strive to approach your dilemmas, both minute and grand, with reasonable thought and an open mind. But be wary of those who would bring plague upon your joy, for their selfish ways are the results of the obedient devotion given toward man-made gods and the struggle to achieve the salvation they are lured by!

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 11:01 am under Reflections, Tentative Works
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From a wandering shadow
I was born into darkness
At that moment my sunrise
turned to eternal shades of grey

Now I wander through existence
Blind of my own fate

A soul once bright with hope
glimpses foggy, warped reflections

Shadows of an age long past
alight their fetid claws upon me

As I dine from empty plates
I wonder how this came to be
As I drink from empty glasses
I wonder what is yet to pass

The only surety in this piteous
existence is the icy cold breath of
Death biting down my back
in search of lost, wayward souls

Always there to torment my desires
Yet never merciful to take mine own

Then as I heard her heart in that
terrible rhythm, I knew again—
Oh! I knew yet again what glorious
harmony could be wrought from peace

I care not who owns your souls
For these are the affairs of gods
My dark passions lay in quivering flesh
and scarlet flow of fresh tepid blood

Concerned not with selfish creeds
or the trivials of intangible love

Oh! How it feels to be the caliginous . . .
LOVER OF DEATH!

From a wandering shadow
I unleash the fury of a tortured soul
Born out of the confusion
of my dark and deadly ancient lust

For I am the Dark Vagabond
The Son of Pain and Despair

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 10:49 am under Adventures In Poetry
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In addition to many other things, one function of this site will be to serve as a way to document any writing endeavors I partake in. Though my writings have typically been few and far between, I’m going to try to write more often from now on. I feel as though my mind is in great need of a little creative outletting. I hope that anyone who reads my attempts at writing would be so kind as to take the time to give me any feedback you may have. Some things you read here you may have seen on other websites in various forums. I decided to include this material because I wanted to include all of my writing on this site.

All material, including (but not limited to) written content, photographic images, and all other intellectual content,
©2006 Christian M. Jones - All Rights Reserved.

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 6:05 am under General
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