The infinite which was hid’ … Detail of the frontispiece of William Blake’s Europe: A Prophecy, a book on display at Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. 
Poem Inspired by William Blake

I’ve been sleeping for two thousand years
Waiting for the moment to turn on the light.

I have slept in clouds in the storms of the night
Looking for a signal, wanting a switch.

I have journeyed inside a billion stars
Staying only a microsecond away from here.

I have splashed the colours of the universe
Throughout the invented histories of Earth.

I have travelled the miles in cases of thought
I was tortured by dogma and politics of a sort.

I have been aware of your instruments of death
You can sanctify your cross, do your worst.

I am pained for I am no longer free
The Earth need is drawing heavily on me.

I am expected but your doors to freedom are closed
Whilst the new gods are frantically worshipped.

I saw satanic mills flourish to yield gold
To the money moguls who despise me of old.

I am grieving for the Earth waiting for it to awaken
My sleeping for two thousand years is about to end.

I am crying for your clergy all have forsaken
Me and my heart and the hearts of all kinds.

I am stretching out my arms, no one notices
As I rise from this stone obscure tomb.

I am sure my next visit will be more worthy
Melting away I went not just saving the money.

I’ve been away for two thousand years
Listening for the sounds of love and peace.

I am watching a thousand guilty knives
Flying through the air towards me alive.

I am blamed for wars greed and indifference
Little chance have I to alter books to make a difference.

I am altered, fashioned into a nuclear missile
For me to bless and for you to release.

I’m given the guilt of countless thousand deaths
So that I may absorb the hatred and fear.


		PART 2 
 
No one shall sleep forever 
For forever demands wakefulness
A gentle prodding towards awareness.

No one escapes the glare of the life force
Nor shall anyone ignore the courses
We tread, we dread the reality of passing over.

No one wants to see the skull and bone remains
Because we were routinely taught to fear
And we fear most that which doesn’t happen.

Like death as it is only an illusion
But we were warped, changed by religion 

The comfort from the religious when we meet
teaches us of oblivion, from which we retreat
is like so many nails driven into hands and feet.

No one dies because we go on to other places
Therefore sleep be banished 
For our friends haven’t vanished
They are close to our faces
They are with us forever in all places
All we need do is wish them to be near.

Sleep ye not, ye souls of ancient yore
For thou hast a path to walk yet and more
Thou walkest freely in the light of universal love
A power from within, without – streams from above
From below, from inside from outside, everywhere
Thou walkest the highest mountains here
When thou settles thy mind there.

Bring us the steepest mountains and hills
We’ll make the journey one of our skills
That were taught us two thousand years ago
Universal lessons we cover with our egos
But beware be not ever so blind
Ye cannot purge thine own mind
Of ancient and nameless wisdom
For it resides deep within
Every cell and molecule kingdom
Of you, of me of us of everyone.

Make ye not a tremendous fuss
Play the simple game of life for us
In the manner of truth and light
Make ye not false prayers
For they attract white hot holes
Into the spirit friends who become whole.

Lift thine eyes with gladdened hearts
To the voices of those who know all parts,
Mock ye not for what do we know?
Only what we see that is on show
What is this, some kind of Hell?
Where our senses are; what can I tell
Of our eyes, hands, nose and mouth – 
A hell invented for convenience hatred and greed
An anvil for all souls to carry thinking they need
Willingly for they believe is real but taken in.

The tragedy of two thousand years without name
Greets my tired eyes like a bloodied torch of flame 
Singeing everyone with a hopeless hapless blame

No one sleeps but most are hypnotised
By the goodies and rewards concocted
Fashioned by mindless animals called humans. 

written by Pete Wakeham