By Zulumathabo Zulu © 2017
Never, to live with his kind
The beloved ones, left behind
The establishment, threatens!
The country, he must abandon!
Pregnant, with forensic truth
He must preserve it, like sleuth
Tropospheric, across the globe
Sanctuary, for fugitive!
Despite passport, abortive!
Secure, like sealed envelope
Unblemished truth, our hope
The fugitive, on state kill list
Hereby, to render him deceased
Unbought, like intrinsic!
Unsold, like forensic!
The fugitive, exiled afar
Socialist republics, ajar
Hereafter, to venerate Snowden
The parched ground, in the inhospitable desert, makes it impossible for the desert flower to thrive on the surface. She needs photosynthesis in order to exist. In the extreme case of water shortage, photosynthesis kills the plant. For this reason, the desert flower must abandon photosynthesis in order to preserve and enhance an alternative survival experience. The flower is forced to find sanctuary in the underground where the ribosome thrives without water. It is herein, that the serene medicine of rest awaits the desert fugitive.
In the underground, the organism rewinds the HPA Axis (hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenalin axis) in order to reverse the deletarious effects of stressful hormones like cortisol. Rest and sleep are the greatest forms of medicine. More specifically, sleep reduces the high levels of cortisol that come as a result of the overactivity of the endocrine system.
Cortisol is highly toxic if prolonged as it begins to damage the arteries and suppress the immune system. An organism can even develop flu as a result of the unrestrained cortisol levels. Cortisol is excellent as an ephemeral system of defense for priming the cardio-vascular and brain processing system but must be avoided when protracted over a large segment of the timeline.
The desert flower hides underground while relishing the secret nutrients of the protective ribosome. While at rest, the flower engages in remote sensing for the slightest indications of the falling rain. When the first raindrops hit the parched ground, the flower springs to life like a charged particle of electromagnetic energy. She dances in the breeze and internalizes the rain that falls like a solar panel that absorbs and stores the sunrays that fall and bounce. Hereafter, the desert flower has shaken off the funks of existential caprice and never more to be morose; teaching us the metaphysical strategy of transcendence over the physical limits of existence.
6 thoughts on “Hereafter, To Venerate Snowden”
Your writing. as always. is powerful….. thought provoking and calls one back to reality….
My beloved sister from another mother. Your accolades are well received by me. We give thanks to the erudite ancestors who ferment and brew the molecular action of these writings and on behalf of whom we produce these sacred pages. I heed their voice when they call. This is what I live for; to fulfill their sacred mission on this terrestrial globe. In this way, we uphold their moral code and their cosmic fiat to empower all humanity regardless of race, creed or gender.
In this instance, it is gratifying and heartening to pay deserved tribute to a graceful, selfless and gutsy young brother like Edward Snowden who has transcended himself above all else, even to lose the security and comfort in the bossom of his motherland to underscore the integrity and the moral code of the constitutional promise for his people. He hedged his bet on the fact that enhancing the survival experience of his people in the face of the invasive clutches of the political machine was equal to life itself. He lost it all to pursue this vicarious mission and became vindicated in the process.
Given a similar situation, most people would defer their conscience, comfort themselves in the bliss of ignorance and never have to risk anything. He chose to do the opposite of that.
Sigabonga ka khulu.
Reblogged this on Green Ankh Works.
I wish they(ancestors) lived to testify that there is someone greater and mightier whom in my understanding is the one behind the wisdom you now posses. One day soon it will manifest itself when our eyes are finally opened.Praise be to Him and Him alone.
Dear ngwaneso Tshepo,
Absolutely, ngwaneso emotle, I am the messenger of the erudite ancestors of the Basotho. I am Mocholoko whom they initiated at a very young age in my harsh childhood. I even tried to argue with them that how could they anoint a sherdboy who is materially deprived and also from a humble background when there were others who had come from a privileged background and were in a better position to materially fulfill the mission. I was worried about making unfulfillable promises because being in a life of material deprivation, I could easily betray the mission and then what happens?
They responded “Rerata yena ya futsaneileng” meaning we want the one who is economically disadvantaged because he shall jealously guard the sacred mission and venerate it like the fearsome Masumu of Matamong. It was then that I knew I had been coiled like a young Zebra stallion to become the vanguard of the sacred teachings of the erudite ancestors and the gods of the cosmos.
As Mocholoko, they made sure that I was equipped with the seven words of the cosmic egg (read my book The Sacred Knowledge of the Desert: African Philosophical Transcendence) and the three knowledge disciplines (1) medicine, (2) cosmology and (3) philosophy. In this way, I had the moral code and the value systems upon which to anchor the sacrosanct mission of the erudite ancestors.
On the part about “Him”, it is actually “Her” or “Yena” because I am possessed by the spirits of the female principle. The men are there as well but they are guided by the female gods in the same way that the Nubian army under the command of the female ruler Candace successfully prevented the Roman army of Augustin Caesar and Alexander the Great from conquiring the brave land of Nubia. This was also the case here in South Africa in the Free State province wherein the female military General Manthatisi preserved the people of Batlokwa from destruction. As you probably know, the South African military submarine Manthatisi is named for her.
Siyabonga ka khulu! Thokoza Makhosi!