The
Birth Of
Mother
Earth
Written By Bubba Beasley
Banned in many parts of the World!
Copyright 2010 by Bubba Beasley
Smashwords Edition
A Conglomeration of Verse and Rhetoric Among Man
(SOME ART ASSIMILATED FROM FAMOUS ART,
ONLY IN THE INTEREST OF PROMOTING DISCUSSION ON HUMAN ARROGANCE)
preface
Modern Philosophy is a rare collection of thought provoking artwork and shocking new-age thinking. From the very first chapter in which Mother Earth explains her self-creation to the later chapters and volumes in which man defiles her meaning and questions her grandeur, these mind bending texts bring general philosophy to a whole new level!
Wrap your fingers around this book and your mind around the concepts and fear falling into the creative world of modern art.
1.
Mother Earth Speaks
Coldness. There is no place to go outward in which to escape this dismal darkness. No choice, I turn in on myself, the only place I can behold that is to go. Deeper. Around in circles, covering every inch within myself to never have doubted I didn’t search. Escape this impossibly deep sea of solitude.
Warmth. The warmth you feel as a child before birth. Coiled tightly in upon yourself to push the blood inward. Like a fetus…… I can feel. The coldness is fading slowly but it is there. On the outside of me, but it is there. I swirl quickly. Moving faster upon myself in torrents until again I feel the WARMTH… Ah the warmth. But that coldness is seeping back in on me as I become comfortable, like water trying to make its way into the center of its Tornado's eye. Faster, and faster I churn, torrent upon torrent to move further within. Must NOT remember that coldness! That’s it! Forget the coldness.
Fire! That was this warmth I was feeling. Pulsing inward toward my center to keep me warm and then outward with explosive power to generate heat.
Steam! There was something I was forgetting. I had moved so far within……. Where I had come from, what had I forgotten? The heat from the steam confusing me as I writhed among my forgetfulness. What was resisting my Fire that I must push through it….. Trying to keep warm. The steam was my companion, but the WATER! The Water wanted in!
Air! Confusion….. I remember leaving the water for the getting as I spun vigorously in on myself in search of warmth and finally finding the lovely Heat. And now I am weightless, and am traveling so quickly upward and outward after fighting so long for this inward warmth. I had feared this so long, the remembering, and the inevitability of it’s repossessing me and stealing from me my warmth! Is there not a happy medium? But then…….. I remember Steam! Yes. Beautiful steam, carving a pathway through the seas and bringing back my memory of Water!
Earth! Yes, the openness of Air had helped the Coolness of Water and tempered the fierce heat of steam. It had married the Fire and the Water and the Air in this hardness. Into the very caves from which the Fire would eventually escape. This unbreakable shell containing my awesome explosive power I had harnessed from the movement of my purest waters at torrential speeds! Oh my glory in myself! My four elements that I AM!
Pangaea. My four elements that I am, and from whence I came. I cherish myself and the mass of land that is me. I remember my unstoppable movement. My confusion that is this personality trait of Air.
Wind! Stirring pieces of tempered Fire which the water had crushed so harshly with its torrents. Pieces moving on my surface. Pieces of me, which think as I think.
Which yearn as I yearn.
I started there. In the beginning. In the darkness. In the dampness. In the deep. Now as pieces move across the Pangaea which is me. The land mass which is my Elements, I can’t help but fall victim to the confusion of the Air. Is it me who stirs them? My Water churning and writhing, and my Air flowing, my Fire breathing it’s steam?
Or is it the pieces?
Do the pieces churn within themselves? Trying as I did so long ago to escape their unnamable shell by going the one place that they know can exist……. That single place Within? Do they churn their own Waters? Will they seek their own Heat? Or are they just searching blindly as I once had, ignorant to the systematic and completeness in which they must eventually search to begin their own maelstroms? Can I guide them? Can I tell them to cover every inch? Around and around…..
No.
For knowledge unearned goes unremembered. The Fire I created is something I alone can posses. It can only come about though Will. Only years of struggle. Years of trial and error create this burning Will for Warmth. For something different. Something changed. Will creates Fire.
Potential! But in them I can see my own potential because it is there. As this tempered piece of Fire, this piece of hardness, ash, floats and moves upon my surface. I can see how in TIME it could find within itself this Will to change. That it holds potential. For if I came from this Ash. This dust. Then might I not come from some other form of thing? It is the Will to change. Could I not have come from a thing that knows even more of my secrets, my discoveries? For I have the Will to Learn. I have made Fire from Water!
LIFE.
