The Only True Knowledge



Socrates states that the only
thing he knows is love,
knowledge of the invisible ether
of Heaven and Earth, the morphogenerator.
Love, the knowledge of what makes
the universe warm and wise,
the knowledge that moves
the stars and makes them shine,
the knowledge that floats the
lotus blossom on the liquid heart of Time.
The knowledge of love birds, red wood trees,
hammerhead sharks and coral reefs,
the knowledge of giants waves and ocean surf,
the knowledge of the loving touch down to the
cellular level massaging my foot,
finding just the right acupressure point.

The knowledge of the other
is knowledge I do not know,
the kind words of true love is foreign
from my starving, evolutionary poetic soul.

I listen to current events on the radio:
floods killing millions in Pakistan,
cholera outbreaks in Haiti,
people buried alive in mudslides in China,
towns in Hungary ruin by a toxic red sludge,
gun battles over drugs on the border with Mexico.
Domestic violence rages in America
as the largest ice sheet in Greenland
cracks off and melts into the sea.
People tortured in Bagdad as soldiers
cut body parts from their victims
as souvenirs of their war crimes.

Perhaps it is peace I have never known.
On this anniversary of Nagasaki
depleted uranium weapons continue to explode.

Love and peace are the words of my generation.
But for love, I have witnessed autoimmune disease.
My fellow men see me, a Gaia prophetess,
as an intimate enemy of their patriarchal society.
As far as peace, there has never been one day of peace
turning gray and childless in a permanent war economy.

Socrates, how blessed you are to know about love.
For us modern lovers of philosophy,
love seems like a distance dream of a lost humanity.


Human Extinction or Lovolution?