Vacant Presence Of Love
© Surazeus
2018 03 04
Now that I am part of the vacant whole
that spirals from wind-twisted radiance
which emanates from countless eyes in dreams,
I find my name woven in web of plays
that undulate through contours of our minds
to sing transcendent passion of all light.
I listen for the mind of everything
to join my brain with flowing wave of dreams
like one pearl on the necklace of bright worlds
which alerts my quick sensibility
to know the vacant presence everywhere
I am not before I arrive without.
Awake on the fog-shrouded bridge of eyes,
that stare surprised at the intricate web
of crystal charms flashing between our hearts,
I reach out beyond the veil of the real
and touch the waves of light that wind tight coils
twanging backward to the blank origin.
We breathe diversity of puzzling truth
to feel tumult of disconsolate time,
although all truths wait in all things, designed
by the blind architect who knows my name,
so we ride the carriage of hope with Death
over trembling bridge that dreams the abyss.
When my eyes pierce the heavens I can see
geometric forms that pattern all things
invisible to the eyes in my head,
but since snow and roses of yesterday
vanished from my hand, so I stand here blind,
I tend rose of love that grows from my heart.
Before I leave my burden at the gate
the sandalled host with wings of fire returns
to break the tower I built with my hands,
but when she calls me Captain Carpenter
I straighten my jacket before her door
and inquire why I love her ever more.
The curving moon above the western wood
reveals the labyrinth were we wander lost
so I return dead white from vale of tears,
transfigured in the flashing flood of truth,
growing into the whiteness of the night
shrouded by sombre green of tall hemlocks.
Shut in from all the outside world of hate
I tend warm fire in the clean-winged hearth
to wind the roaring wind within my heart
which urges boundless dancing on my part
so I become the mask of my rebirth,
appointed guardian of the ancient gate.
So where I stand on lake shore in dark wood
I sense strange presence of the absent light
who seems to know everything I might be
more than I know myself when I reveal
mind-numbing fears to the indifferent wind,
allowing rain that does not care to clean.
This frozen sky that wears out my weird wings
records the rhythm of my aching cries
where red apples ripe in the orchards hang
from boundless heaven of that shining light
that we mistake for vast divinity
while searching for love in the careless void.
The vacant presence springing from White Whole
beams spiraling eye through eternity
so when I wake in cold reality
I pluck the apple from the singing tree
and taste the sweet knowledge of good and evil
that fuels the functions of chemical souls.
Though I stand in the space of my back yard
to become the wind-twisted radiance,
I wake on the shore of the singing sea
who molded my body from molecules
which spiral from vacant presence of love
for I am the crystal star of the mind.
© Surazeus
2018 03 04
Now that I am part of the vacant whole
that spirals from wind-twisted radiance
which emanates from countless eyes in dreams,
I find my name woven in web of plays
that undulate through contours of our minds
to sing transcendent passion of all light.
I listen for the mind of everything
to join my brain with flowing wave of dreams
like one pearl on the necklace of bright worlds
which alerts my quick sensibility
to know the vacant presence everywhere
I am not before I arrive without.
Awake on the fog-shrouded bridge of eyes,
that stare surprised at the intricate web
of crystal charms flashing between our hearts,
I reach out beyond the veil of the real
and touch the waves of light that wind tight coils
twanging backward to the blank origin.
We breathe diversity of puzzling truth
to feel tumult of disconsolate time,
although all truths wait in all things, designed
by the blind architect who knows my name,
so we ride the carriage of hope with Death
over trembling bridge that dreams the abyss.
When my eyes pierce the heavens I can see
geometric forms that pattern all things
invisible to the eyes in my head,
but since snow and roses of yesterday
vanished from my hand, so I stand here blind,
I tend rose of love that grows from my heart.
Before I leave my burden at the gate
the sandalled host with wings of fire returns
to break the tower I built with my hands,
but when she calls me Captain Carpenter
I straighten my jacket before her door
and inquire why I love her ever more.
The curving moon above the western wood
reveals the labyrinth were we wander lost
so I return dead white from vale of tears,
transfigured in the flashing flood of truth,
growing into the whiteness of the night
shrouded by sombre green of tall hemlocks.
Shut in from all the outside world of hate
I tend warm fire in the clean-winged hearth
to wind the roaring wind within my heart
which urges boundless dancing on my part
so I become the mask of my rebirth,
appointed guardian of the ancient gate.
So where I stand on lake shore in dark wood
I sense strange presence of the absent light
who seems to know everything I might be
more than I know myself when I reveal
mind-numbing fears to the indifferent wind,
allowing rain that does not care to clean.
This frozen sky that wears out my weird wings
records the rhythm of my aching cries
where red apples ripe in the orchards hang
from boundless heaven of that shining light
that we mistake for vast divinity
while searching for love in the careless void.
The vacant presence springing from White Whole
beams spiraling eye through eternity
so when I wake in cold reality
I pluck the apple from the singing tree
and taste the sweet knowledge of good and evil
that fuels the functions of chemical souls.
Though I stand in the space of my back yard
to become the wind-twisted radiance,
I wake on the shore of the singing sea
who molded my body from molecules
which spiral from vacant presence of love
for I am the crystal star of the mind.
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