What rituals do we retain from ancient times? Primordial, primitive, leaving faint trace, no memory. When each morning the sun rising was pure magic, The setting sun called forth darkness, a time of fear.
We have misplaced the magic, retained our night terror. Magic not lost entirely, yet glimpsed now only in our creation From cave paintings to the tallest skyscrapers. Even when creation is to show our power, hide our fear.
Sweet peace brings no sense of power, only quiet. It can in no way eliminate our fear of the unknown. Neither acquisition nor science changes the equation. Each birth, lives, equals each death, dies, and them repeats.