Sunday, October 2, 2016

Spirits Of Singing Light

Spirits Of Singing Light
© Surazeus
2016 10 02

Holding torch of light that illuminates death,
Star Woman stands in silver flowing stream,
and opens eyes that contain our whole world
to dream endless war between dark and light.

I climb ancient tree laden with ripe fruit,
that flowers in the middle of the highway
where millions of cars race against the wind,
and become the winged serpent you fear.

I see them gather in crowds of blind rage
on both sides of the wall that no one built
and shout with faith to declare their world view
more right than all others to depict truth.

I hold clear crystal glowing in my hand
and see faces of everyone I know
animated by desires they invent
which they hang in gallery of lost souls.

Dancing in the river formed from all tears,
Star Woman molds my body from wet mud
and stuffs mushroom in new skull for my brain,
then beams rainbow to animate my soul.

From dark sea I crawl the river of light,
rise from the lake of dreams to eat fresh fruit,
and cuddle my sweetheart on high tree limbs
after we swing in high tree canopies.

I fall from the tree when I lose my tail
and dance in ocean waves while singing spells,
then follow swift deer over rolling hills,
eating mushrooms that sprout from pungent mud.

I climb high mountain where laughing wind god
teaches me secret of heart-swelling breath,
then reach my arms to caress shining stars
but fall from the sky into stream of love.

I look up from red flames on altar stone
after chanting weird visions in world spells
and see ten thousand faces stare at me
when they gather on broad ziggurat steps.

Placing tall silver pitcher in my hand,
Star Woman commands I fill every grail,
so I dip it deep in cauldron of juice
and walk among them all to bless their hearts.

When I eat mushroom in gold evening mist,
I return to birth of our conscious dream
and travel through generations of souls
four billion years to this intensive hour.

We eat and are eaten through cycling flow
in primal surging waves of life and death,
our bodies transforming from egg and sperm
to ethereal spirits of singing light.

1 comment:

  1. They aren't doing what I think they're doing in the end.