It is difficult to speak the hard truths,
not the truth about someone else’s politics
nor the truth about someone else’s lies,
but the truth about our Earth is hard
that we’ve replaced mystery with dogmatic Ego,
that we’ve disconnected from our birth and death
ignorant of ancient wisdom, indigenous myths,
stories of the underworld and all the heavens
for those have been replaced with psychology:
desires and lusts of Ego struggling to be free
who loves to sing of woe twisted in mortal coil
a vulture without feet to touch a river streaming
The Ego stands here hovering but never moving
seeking the remains of success and riches renown
but in the labyrinth of mind are empty treasures,
never balance, never fulfillment will it ever find,
for it’s severed itself from the roots of the land
and that is the Ego, jealous of the apple tree flowers,
and envious of what remains of Earth’s honey bees,
don’t you notice the Ego inside and outside you?
don’t you feel the ache of Earth in your dreams?
The Mysteries of Plato 