Blue Kookaburra

Blue Kookaburra
© Surazeus
2018 03 15

The deep throaty cry of the Kookaburra
haunts the hallways of the shadowed house
where the last candle of truth flickered out
a thousand years before the end of war.

Though my heart is an apple with a worm
gnawing at the core of its strange desire,
I walk across the plain of sunlit grass
to find the last seed on the broken stone.

The laughter of the bird with bright blue wings
follows me across the insouciant plain
where nothing matters but the gusting wind
that reveals the sorrow I tried to hide.

The yellow school bus returns from the moon,
bringing blind angels from the silent hall
where they erase our names from the gray wall,
then parks in the woods by indifferent stream.

The newt with rainbow stripes streaking its scales
emerges from the broken stone of truth
to teach me constellations where lost tales
are woven from the dreams of broken hearts.

Spreading wings, tattered by smooth hurricanes,
they fly above the city where quaint homes
reflect our faces in windows of time,
and gather on the shore of the mute river.

I listen to what the river might say
but hear no names of people I once knew
who wander lonely somewhere far away
because I forgot to draw map of myths.

TBlue Kookaburra with star-glowing wings
laughs at the cracked mirror without a face
who whispers secret codes with river voice
so we know how to fly through maze of lies.