God My Brain Invents
© Surazeus
2026 10 01

When dawn sun gleams over apple creek,
piercing my heart with agony of love,
I fool myself one hour of glowing thoughts
that I am one with some vast cosmic mind,
and not alone and small on giant globe
that slowly spins in void of nothingness.

How comforting to think that cosmic mind,
beaming from hills and clouds with warming love,
observes my being with soul-nurturing care,
empathizing with strange feelings I feel,
and would protect my frail body from harm
while teaching me to see nature of things.

This hope for huge protective soul of love
that gleams as ghost in sun-refracting clouds,
I wonder if my mind derives its sense
from memories my ancestors reviewed
because they all experienced sweet care
their living parents performed in each life.

My mind projects care of this cosmic mind
based on experience of each new life
from memories of their childhood that transfer
brain to brain on dream-weaving strings of genes
which feed complex glow of my conscious mind
so I expect care from ghost of this world.

No parental spirit, bodied in flesh,
hovers over me with cherubic wings
to shield my frail embodied soul from harm,
so my mind projects as ghost of their care
incorporeal being in God my brain invents
that shimmers as illusion of my faith.

If I were not projecting ghost of care
as ideal god that presents in thought
absent parent my programmed brain expects,
I would begin to tremble with stark fear
that sharp-toothed monsters of death lurking near
may attack and destroy my tender soul.

Thus with fake confidence of specious faith
I strut landscape of terror to account
for secret treasures I extract from death
as fruit which I consume to sustain life
that flushes with tense strength of ardent pride
transient self which I navigate with care.

Now stuck with ghost of God my brain invents,
programmed by psychic memories of hope
that my ancestors conjured from stark fear
to navigate through gangs of hostile men,
which helped them survive to generate life,
I protect and guide my children with care.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/10/…

Orpheus explains to his son Linus that our brains invent the concept of the Father God in the clouds who watches over us and guides our sons to the garden of fruit.

#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism