THE PROMISE

THE PROMISE

Erle Frayne Argonza / Ra

I

Rise up, Man! Rise up!

Your commonwealth’s history had been astride

The cosmic pendulum that had darted

From yon up. Pendulum has reached dead center

And again is rising beyond the dale of time.

The center was lodged betwixt camel and palm tree.

Reckon, reckon that the East calls

‘Twain the valley of time expectant.

Respond shall the camel benignly

And twill change hands with the carabao.

Snail paced is this beast the carabao

And so is your ascent, o! Man!

To the pinnacle of your godly, godly zen.

You shall be god, your being’s made

By you a living clay molded

Millions of times by your own hands.

II

Man! The Light has come forth

In dazzling photons it fused with seawaves

And fluvial ripples. Gracefully had

It landed, guided by a dozen eagles.

Shine brightly shall the Light

Sky beacon that illuminates eagerness

The clear landscape of the Promise.

The Promise has been slumbering in a bed

Of coal and gold: ‘tis coal and gold.

The Light shall burn the coal

To be fed into the waiting furnace

Where the gold shall be molded into one

Magnificent icon as tall as the azure sky.

‘Tis the longed for icon that shall herald

The historic swing to grandeur’s height.

III

Wherefore lies the heart of grandeur?

Wert this not but a dead man’s wish

Long buried in the hovels of the earth?

Wert this not but a sweetened piece

Of bitter gourd: its stinging taste betrays

Its endless senselessness in the world sensical?

Man! This height of grandeur is the state

Indescribable to the wisest among grandfathers

A million generations stretch: ‘tis a million

Times a million times of pure majestic luster

Only but Inner Selves can comprehend.

‘tis the founded form-being of all

Sublime inner selves that have been struggling

In putrescent marshes of history.

This to the grandfathers is mere dream

Induced by the spirit elixirs of Bacchus.

IV

Rise! Rise it shall

High above the hills and valleys

‘Twards the azure firmaments

This majestic commonwealth of yours, o! Man!

For which freedom-in-life is

A concluded spell of benevolent magis.

Reside shall its spirit in people’s bosoms.

Gone shall be the seismic struggles

Alone for bread as if this were the most

Valued diadem atop the zenith of greatness:

The world shall be its own bread

And man, the luminary figure at last

Whose coming was pronounced before

By a trillion bards of eagles and doves.

Rise! Rise it shall

From where corals had made lands

Where sturdy races have eked out living

And slave they were for others;

No more are they slaves but are free cranes

Atop carabaos their benign carriers.

V

What is reality after all o! Man!

For which you have buried yourself

Millions of times in search for its enigmas?

Is it like spiral moving poles a-clashing?

Maybe, but maybe not. Maybe

‘Tis a swarm of flies that swats

Made festive killings by the dozens

And yet aren’t flies but gems.

When upon each gem Light gently touches

It brings forth radiance to all

Corners of the cosmos: it makes bounds

Anon betwixt its grounded state

And the unbrimmed infinite extent

Apast spaces: ‘tis unbrimmed space

And yet spaceless brims.

VI

Man! A promise made a million times

And delivered a million times makes a million

More than its primeval state: ‘ts a grain

Of sand and the universe made one.

The sea has recognized this secret lore

And had sung it lyrically in melodious tunes

That no one cared to listen to

Save for man-slaves on a dozen mountains.

Mushroom-eaters they are who’d sensed

What the real is: the Promise realized overboard

Its primordial state—a giant that wakes up

From zillions of earth revolutions or slumber:

‘Ti a Being stronger than ever that turns rivers

Into founts of gold, cause for merriment

Atop the nature-world the bed of bread.

VII

Happy, o! happy will be

The suns and stars and moons

And winds and waves

Over your final dawning, o! Man!

Even as the day starts on the sixth hour.

Man! You are the sixth estate:

Risen and made one, freed at last

From tsunamis of disintegrating forces.

Behold! No more forlorn are nature and cosmos

The citadels of true life.

And you, Man, finally regained, revived,

Realized as your guardian and maker.

[Writ. 22 July 1991, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

REFLECTION

This poem—with 7 parts—is largely about the New Age of Light. Writ in very highly archetypal language, it is among those pieces that fit the minds of seekers who love puzzles, notably the wiz kid types. It was written akin to Goethe’s epic, whose master piece of literature was actually a literature of cosmic awakening and the risks that can happen along the way.

The piece prophecies the coming of the new race of Aquarians or Meruvians, the 6^th ‘root race’ identified by HP Blavatsky. The Aquarians will replace the Aryan stocks that now abound, with the chief prototype ethnicities emerging in the Pacific land masses that will emerge after the post-2012 ascension. A chohan of the Great White Brotherhood was already designated as manu or ‘great leader’ of that forthcoming race.

As for the other archetypes, I’d leave this to the concerned seekers and mystics to think about. To give you hints for instance, ‘camel’ signifies the Western hemisphere, while ‘carabao’ signifies the East. I’d leave the rest for you to reflect or meditate on.

Ra

April 2011