Turning Point? Poem by DM W

We inherit time honoured myths,
But rarely do we deconstruct them.
We seek asylum from present woes
In some artificial Eden or other.
Yet the wastelands of the soul
Stretch further day by day and
The flashing dream of healing
Summer rain seems remote;
Especially in a dry season.
We need new maps to guide us
Towards the unbroken kingdom,
Where Love and Light still reign,
Despite the modern descent
Into darkness and decay.
The spectres of virtual worlds
Now haunt our consciousness.
Perhaps, profound ancient symbols
Can be revived in innovative ways.
Yet we need new maps as
The old ones are not clear any more.
Indeed, their obscure codes are baffling.
They are no longer fit for purpose.
They are tainted by history's follies.
With this in mind, let us open the door
That leads to endless possibilities:
Poetry, art and music as alchemy;
Cross- fertilisation of vibrant cultures.
There is still time to transcend
The past and complete the circle.
I say let a thousand flowers bloom!