A Discourse on Consciousness

When fish should speak in storm

When patience’s dam breaks beneath injustice,
words find their passage toward truth.

Yes!… I come down to you below
you wretched, envious souls…
Down to that nest of your clouded thoughts
where you cannot even hide
from the selfish mire of your own stained shadow.

Forever drunk on vanity’s ceremonies,
grasping tight the throne of Self.
One sees you crowned on summits of display,
raised by ladders built of gain.
Utterly blind to noble dreams…
Up marble steps you climb,
crushing underfoot the innocent white doves of witness,
their wings bloodied, their songs silenced.

You live within a gilded cage of loneliness
yet bare before the watching world
where proud reeds of empty boasting grow.
The Orthodox Church bleeds under your dark ministers
while you sleep undisturbed
on soft beds woven from indifference.

Nihilists of Christ’s Holy Gospel:
“make disciples of all nations.”
Yet the dawn of blazing justice comes
to judge this shadowed human hour.

Nostis Psarras