RIP Erich von Däniken

 Of note Erich von Däniken has passed recently.

Long full life and I'll miss him.

I've loved his works which inspired "In Search Of" that as a small child I listened to on a tiny Black and White TV that was a hand-down from my Grandmother as it was re-run endlessly in the early morning and late night in the 70s.

His work influenced many later works - the Eternals by Jack Kirby, Ancient Aliens, the whole "Ancient Aliens" theory.  Sure there's plenty of opposition to his ideals by whiny "De-Bunkers" but lots of it makes perfect sense.  One Man's opinion.  He should be honored for his literary influence alone...!

In any way regardless I miss him and thank him for his work.  I could gush for pages all the fond memories and stories of incidents its affected my life but really I'll hold back save this one recent thing - the song...

May the Space Gods - or God himself now please elevate this man and introduce him to the Mysteries he sought all his life!

I'd recently made a song in tribute to his works, as part of a larger Progressive Rock experiment - "Space Gods" - lyrics (c) Maxx Feral and associates - assembled with a DAW and Suno help.

Here's the real Lyrics, YouTube's auto ones miss a few things:

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

“MMMmmmmmMMMMM”

 

Stone breath.

Star dust.

A doorway stitched in mineral hush—

and in the seams of silence: us.

I found it where the canyon forgets the sun,

A rib of black rock, carved to none.

No banner, no warning, no written plea—

Just spiralwork humming quietly.

I laid my lamp on the threshold line,

And the air grew thick like old-time wine;

The tomb drank sound, the walls grew near,

And my heartbeat turned into listening ear.

A lens in the dark, a perfect eye,

Watching the watcher, asking why.

I did not speak—my tongue was snow—

I only let the current flow.

Space Gods— not thrones in the sky,

But travelers of dawn in a long reply.

Space Gods— moving planet to planet,

Leaving small seeds where the wild winds span it.

Not chains, not crowns, not a sacred whip—

Just the steady hands of a starship.

 Then—light like water, poured through bone,

And I was not alone, not alone.

A corridor bloomed behind my eyes,

And I watched the ages reorganize:

Silver hulls with no flags unfurled,

Quiet as moths in the velvet world;

Faces bright as phosphor rain,

Voices that spoke in a chord, not a name.

 They did not shout, they did not claim,

They never asked for praise or blame;

They turned the keys of sleeping things—

And moved on, listening to the springs.

 

Space Gods— not thrones in the sky,

But travelers of dawn in a long reply.

Space Gods— moving planet to planet,

Leaving small seeds where the wild winds span it.

Not chains, not crowns, not a sacred whip—

Just the steady hands of a starship.

 I saw them kneel by a river of red,

Touching the mud where the first dreams bred—

Not to command, but to tune the clay

So it remembered a wider way.

On one world: fire taught to sing in the throat,

On one world: hands made gentle enough to hold.

On one world: eyes that learned to read the night,

Tracing the grammar of distant light.

 But shadows follow even golden feet,

And every gift has a hidden heat.

A mind can bloom, a mind can bruise,

A spark can warm… or become a fuse.

So they placed no law in the marrow’s core—

Only a door… only a door… only a door…

And the choice walked out on its own two stars,

Wearing its freedom like healing scars.

 Space Gods— not thrones in the sky,

But travelers of dawn in a long reply.

Space Gods— moving planet to planet,

Leaving small seeds where the wild winds span it.

Not chains, not crowns, not a sacred whip—

Just the steady hands of a starship,

 

The vision folded like a sail of glass,

And the tomb was only a tomb at last.

But something stayed—like a second breath—

A warmth that wouldn’t learn the taste of death.

I climbed to the rim where the sunrise poured,

And the desert rang like a struck chord:

Not worship, no—

Not fear, no—

Only the urge to go… to go… to go…

 

tok—tok—tak… tok—tok—tak…

Across the silence, across the drift—

Carrying the door they did not lift.

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

Again Rest in Peace - Mr. Erich von Däniken!