Waves Between You And Me
© Surazeus
2018 04 17
The laughing skull of Hamlet haunts me still
while I wander on, lost in Somewhere City,
the kingless pawn on the Chessboard of Power,
till I come to the Pantheon of Dreams
and sit at the Round Table of Decisions
to assemble the weird Puzzle of History
which may reveal the Empress of the World.
Sitting in the library without eyes,
I hear strange voices of the dead who sing
through words their hands composed on paper sheets
over thousands of years before my birth,
designing vision of our universe
to code ontology through surreal dreams.
Anne chants magic spells in shadowed woods
to teach the Owl magic who becomes me,
Emerson gazes at the boundless sky
and becomes one gigantic transparent eye,
then Whitman walks with ebbing tide of love
where Eternal Self laughs at our Real Self.
Emily rides the chariot with Death
who touches her forehead with Flame of Truth,
Wallace measures sunlight on flowing water
to explain order of chaotic will,
then Allen howls anguish from the best minds
of every generation who sing spells.
Robert runs laughing in weird labyrinth
of the castle where Lord Weary paints eyes
on shimmering mirrors of the Holy Ghost,
then Thomas walks with me in the Waste Land,
interpreting the message of the Thunder
when rain sparkles flowers on field of skulls.
The Angel Sariel from Oregon
climbs Mount Takoma to the Cave of Eyes
where he gazes in the Jewel of Truth
that preserves long the First Flash of Creation
which flickers in the soul of every atom
that pulses in waves between you and me.
We stand together on the Stage of Songs
and recite the magic spells of dead wizards
who shine before our eyes on television,
ghosts of their souls preserved on flickering film
long after their bodies dissolve to dust
and the flash of their brains gleam on weird water.
When Sariel returns from the mountain top,
talking with Saturnus about the Atom,
he stands at the podium of every church
and chants the magic spells of long-dead prophets,
so we drink wine of Bacchus and dance wild
while Apollo records it all on film.
© Surazeus
2018 04 17
The laughing skull of Hamlet haunts me still
while I wander on, lost in Somewhere City,
the kingless pawn on the Chessboard of Power,
till I come to the Pantheon of Dreams
and sit at the Round Table of Decisions
to assemble the weird Puzzle of History
which may reveal the Empress of the World.
Sitting in the library without eyes,
I hear strange voices of the dead who sing
through words their hands composed on paper sheets
over thousands of years before my birth,
designing vision of our universe
to code ontology through surreal dreams.
Anne chants magic spells in shadowed woods
to teach the Owl magic who becomes me,
Emerson gazes at the boundless sky
and becomes one gigantic transparent eye,
then Whitman walks with ebbing tide of love
where Eternal Self laughs at our Real Self.
Emily rides the chariot with Death
who touches her forehead with Flame of Truth,
Wallace measures sunlight on flowing water
to explain order of chaotic will,
then Allen howls anguish from the best minds
of every generation who sing spells.
Robert runs laughing in weird labyrinth
of the castle where Lord Weary paints eyes
on shimmering mirrors of the Holy Ghost,
then Thomas walks with me in the Waste Land,
interpreting the message of the Thunder
when rain sparkles flowers on field of skulls.
The Angel Sariel from Oregon
climbs Mount Takoma to the Cave of Eyes
where he gazes in the Jewel of Truth
that preserves long the First Flash of Creation
which flickers in the soul of every atom
that pulses in waves between you and me.
We stand together on the Stage of Songs
and recite the magic spells of dead wizards
who shine before our eyes on television,
ghosts of their souls preserved on flickering film
long after their bodies dissolve to dust
and the flash of their brains gleam on weird water.
When Sariel returns from the mountain top,
talking with Saturnus about the Atom,
he stands at the podium of every church
and chants the magic spells of long-dead prophets,
so we drink wine of Bacchus and dance wild
while Apollo records it all on film.
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