Field Of Blue Forget-Me-Nots
© Surazeus
2018 03 28
Sun gleams on field of blue Forget-Me-Nots
that hang over edge of the babbling brook
where I kneel to gaze in water of life,
and think about the people we have lost.
Each flower with yellow face gazing at me
whispers the name of someone who was killed
through lamentation of susurrant tone
that lulls me into dreamy contemplation
about our struggle to live well with joy.
My face disappears in the flowing brook,
as the clear face of every person killed
blends in with my face, so we all become
one eternal soul who wakes in sunlight.
Forget me not, they all cry out to me,
so I write their names on the flowing water.
We do not exist before we are born
and we cease to exist after we die,
but like flowers bloom again every spring
our children bloom from the pleasure of love
and fill the fields of stories with their faces,
so our eternal soul of human genes
lives forever in the children we dream.
The intense agony of being alive
flushes tingling ache of sorrowing joy
through my limbs with atomic sparks of love
that motivate my heart to empathize
with your own private hopes to savor life.
We must kill plants and animals to eat,
consuming material of vibrant cells
to fuel our own cells with taut energy
of passion to dance in silver moonlight
while drinking sweet wine that bleeds from the Earth.
Swirling up from the blue flowers of remembrance,
countless spirits swirl around me in wind,
and in the sunlight gleaming through the trees
I see my family walking through the flowers.
I stand in field of blue Forget-Me-Nots
as gusting wind blows long hair around my face
and sunbeams pierce the pulsings of my heart
so I become every soul who ever lived
while I call out their names in the soft wind
that preserve the stories of their rich lives.
© Surazeus
2018 03 28
Sun gleams on field of blue Forget-Me-Nots
that hang over edge of the babbling brook
where I kneel to gaze in water of life,
and think about the people we have lost.
Each flower with yellow face gazing at me
whispers the name of someone who was killed
through lamentation of susurrant tone
that lulls me into dreamy contemplation
about our struggle to live well with joy.
My face disappears in the flowing brook,
as the clear face of every person killed
blends in with my face, so we all become
one eternal soul who wakes in sunlight.
Forget me not, they all cry out to me,
so I write their names on the flowing water.
We do not exist before we are born
and we cease to exist after we die,
but like flowers bloom again every spring
our children bloom from the pleasure of love
and fill the fields of stories with their faces,
so our eternal soul of human genes
lives forever in the children we dream.
The intense agony of being alive
flushes tingling ache of sorrowing joy
through my limbs with atomic sparks of love
that motivate my heart to empathize
with your own private hopes to savor life.
We must kill plants and animals to eat,
consuming material of vibrant cells
to fuel our own cells with taut energy
of passion to dance in silver moonlight
while drinking sweet wine that bleeds from the Earth.
Swirling up from the blue flowers of remembrance,
countless spirits swirl around me in wind,
and in the sunlight gleaming through the trees
I see my family walking through the flowers.
I stand in field of blue Forget-Me-Nots
as gusting wind blows long hair around my face
and sunbeams pierce the pulsings of my heart
so I become every soul who ever lived
while I call out their names in the soft wind
that preserve the stories of their rich lives.
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