Theater Of Lost Tales

Theater Of Lost Tales
© Surazeus
2017 10 01

Rising from his seat in the theater
of lost tales after the movie is done,
Ron stretches arms and legs, then thumps his chest
while breathing deep the shimmering rays of light.

Turning slowly in the dim twilight glow,
Ron gazes at the crowd of skeletons,
who stare back at him as spiders and snakes,
and bows with a flourish of his right hand.

Reaching out his red right hand, Ron grasps skull
of the bearded king, who still wears gold crown
studded with jewels that resemble eyes,
and lifts it high above his head in moonlight.

Following the light that glows from its eyes,
Ron climbs trail winding around mountain side
to grove where young woman with long gold hair
sits meditating in the tholos temple.

"I sat in the temple of ancient tales
and watched every movie composed by hands
that depicts history of social conflict
replay process of human evolution."

Ten thousand skeletons in the vast hall
watch him give the woman a golden rose
while he leans to kiss her marble lips
the minute rain pours and drenches their souls.

"I watched so many movies about heroes
that the mask of my own face fell away
and I transformed into the human soul
of every person who has ever lived."

Picking up the skull of a German nun
who wrote poems about divine meditation,
Ron holds it over his face, and then laughs
when white butterfly flutters from its cranium.

Holding her arm bone, Ron draws in the dust
Cartesian grid to calculate the curve
that atoms thread when beaming through the void
to weave souls from the pulsing of our brains.

Lights flash in the theater of lost tales,
so Ron stands on stage before staring skulls
and sings weird haunting melody of love
about how the universe beams from light.