Saturday, November 5, 2016

Ghosts In Raindrops

Ghosts In Raindrops
© Surazeus
2016 11 05

The address numbers that shine on the door
of every house in the world transform shape
into algebra code that calculates
the complex arcane flight of butterflies.

After the young garage mechanic eats
green apples during lunch three flowers bloom
from the top of his head, transforming skull
into the striped egg of a dinosaur.

The college librarian rides her bike slow
back home every evening after work,
and stops to write some long-forgotten poem
on the door of each house where no one lives.

Sitting on the bus, the mechanic smiles
at blank faces replaced by mirror glass,
then invents for them all faces and names
they take home and hide in the closet box.

Petting her kitten, who wraps long soft tail
around the aching sorrow of her heart,
the librarian erases every word
from every novel that no one will read.

Staring out the window at cloudy sky,
the mechanic perceives ghosts in raindrops
who blossom wings and flutter around glass
of his eyes frozen like ice of fish ponds.

Pencils grow from the dry roots of her teeth,
so the librarian draws face of the prince
she imagines will unlock ancient door
that hides the mirror her grandmother lost.

Stepping through the mirror on bedroom wall,
the mechanic walks on the river shore
where the shadow of a cat beams from light
and leads him to the lost Garden of Eden.

Stepping through the mirror on bedroom wall,
the librarian walks on the river shore
where the whisper of a car engine purrs
and leads her to the lost Garden of Eden.

Nodding to each other as they pass by,
the mechanic and the librarian pause
and look back, then give each other their false face,
white king and red queen beside fallen rook.

"I hope you do not laugh at me," he smiles,
and gives her the honey comb of desire,
while Nidhogg slithers among tangled roots
of Yggdrasil which shrouds Garden of Eden.

"I hope you do not kill me," she replies,
and gives him the ripe apple of desire,
while Vritra slithers along flowing stream
of Ganga which waters Garden of Eden.

Holding hands while they stroll in apple grove,
the mechanic and the librarian talk
about light of love which illuminates
two separate roads that converge on one path.

"The machinery of desire," he explains,
"turning wheels of fate on wagon of hope
guided my way through chaos of this world
and brought us together on path of life."

"The library of faith," she contemplates,
"turning pages of hope in book of fate
revealed your true face in mirror of rain
and nourishes trees on our path of life."

The lawyer steps from shadow of fruit trees
and points a gun so they stop in surprise,
then shoots the mechanic and buries body
in the basement of the city courthouse.

The lawyer snaps a chain around her neck
and locks the librarian in a small cage
then lounges on a throne of rusting swords
while she weaves tapestry of long lost tales.

Weaving the tragic tale of Philomela
on curtains that hang inside every home,
the librarian stares in abyss of death
and laughs when she sees her own secret face.

Transforming into a delicate bird
who cannot sing, the librarian flies
through vast mirror of our spiraling eyes
till she expands into our galaxy.

Freed from the cage of despair by police,
the librarian stands in the hall of books
and plays flute while books flap white raven wings
who give eyes to children in every land.

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