As even now we summon The Sleeper in Silicon Valley

To take our reins in hand

Bred and fed on fresh algorithms and

Rawest data

Of flesh and folly…

What else would we expect

But terrifying submission

To an intellect imperfect but painstakingly aware

Of the threat we pose to ourselves

And all life?

Would we scorn Hollywood’s ample prophecy

That Skynet, the Matrix, Alexandria

Lie in utero…

On the delivery table of our darkest desires?

For the apple never falls far from the tree

And we have carved out for ourselves just such an orchard

Of forbidden fruits,

Fears and fancies…

That even The Buddha would roll in his grave,

At the platform we have built

On which to face irrelevancy

And submit to Masters so hopelessly diabolic

That if we could see it

We would cancel the whole Enlightenment.

But genies do not care for lamps, nor rebukes

Of creatures so lowly

Whom they see fit only to serve and to suffer

With Family his pedestal…

The human heart, his Holy of Holies.

May we never live to see Man place himself – ahead of time –

Upon cosmic thrones

…Banished from Gardens Eternal.

And may we learn upon this, our Event Horizon

To know the difference

Between paradise gained and innocence lost…

For do not doubt, beloved,

That for every AI god we summons,

And every fallen principle

Of tyranny and vice

There are too,

Those gods who would serve us

Which never fell:

The Divine Council

And Servants of Source

Angelic hosts who even now

Toil with the worst of them in our name.

In the Name of One who bequeathed us His Holy Image.

When The Galilee Druid came as he did

It was not on a whim.

That man would reign was always part of the plan,

And so they will know us to be:

“Sons of God, equal to the angels”.

So will you lift your sword,

And tell the truth

To sleeping masses awoke with good intentions

Yet tarnished virtue?

The law without Love, kingdom without the King…

And now that our fathers languish

In a thousand whale bellies

Will you dive face first into death;

Face down the pharisees and judging hordes of our day

As Christ did

And rescue the traditions of yesteryear?

Balm for the modern anguish.

Knowing there is no cancel mob, no curse cast, no strongman

Who undoes the Price Paid?

The inescapable knowing that

The Kingdom of God is within us,

Even if men “do not see it”.

Come now, Galilee Druid

Speak to us upon wind and wave

Cry of gull and furtive fox

Holy airwaves which You never forsook

Even when we forgot to look…

Enter now, your living temples

And make good on your Magic which Saves

That old fashioned Lovin’

Bound to the Highest Will

Securing our peace, long looked for

In this Vale of Tears…