Wingless Mirror Angel

Wingless Mirror Angel
© Surazeus
2017 05 11

Though wind chases light across the green plain,
and children run circles around pear trees,
the old man sits alone in falling rain
and licks sweet honey made by zooming bees.

When we at last arrive for feast of cakes
all the blind crownless kings will play war chess,
but after they change the queens into snakes
the deaf wizard appears, wearing a dress.

He grips my shoulders with frail trembling hands
and tries to convince me the dead will walk
and drive the living from our fertile lands
then rule the world till I invent the clock.

Bearing only the last book still unburned,
we set out on quest for the holy grail
since the Lady of Shalott, who was spurned
by Arthur, drew me a map of the trail.

After trudging through the waste land of dust
we arrive at the pool where all dead souls
dissolve from the flames of creative lust
till we civilize ourselves with grand goals.

I see my face in the mirror of light
so I attach to my shoulders swan wings
broken by the flaming sword of the right
which explains why the angel never sings.

The blind wizard who explains why we die
opens the back of my skull to replace
my sponge brain with computer diamond eye
so I can dream all history in one face.

I build four wheels from the dead Tree of Life
and drive swift wagon along winding trail
that leads me to the cracked tower where my wife
pours honey wine into the Holy Grail.

I carve on trunks of trees the secret Runes
that tell tragic tale of the last Snow Queen
while three-eyed girl sings for me ancient tunes
recording how she built the world machine.

I see the robot angel fly at me
but stop and stare at the mirror abyss,
eager to marry Empress Liberty
who blushes when I give her loving kiss.