Our Evening Land

Our Evening Land
© Surazeus
2018 05 06

Across the Evening Land I fly
to catch the falling star
that from the crystal of my eye
discovers who we are.

On hill of blooming trees I stand
to find her glowing face,
the Spirit of our Evening Land
whose name conceals this place.

I walk dark roads from coast to coast
through deserts and wild woods
to chase the shining star-lit ghost
who hides in blooming buds.

Though millions on cold city streets
in circles wander mute
I hope to perform noble feats
from eating sacred fruit.

Though missiles could destroy our world,
blasting it with hot flames,
we follow still our flag unfurled
to play bold patriot games.

I search the labyrinth of lies
for truth we know is real
conceived by self-reflective eyes
beyond the Fortune Wheel.

I sail the ship of Yarendil,
Foam-Flower, on deep waves
to find the sacred moon-weird hill
where Angels sing in caves.

When men on Earth, beset by war,
see shining ship on high,
they name it High Hope for the star
that gleams in every eye.

From Timeless Void the star appears
that guides our wandering quest
along the road of bitter tears
to find the nameless west.

In watered hills of Idaho
I build wood home of faith
then tend new apples trees that grow
from hunger of the wraith.

Behind mask of America
while searching for my soul
I find true Land of Onatah
that glows with the White Whole.

Within the Evening Land I dwell
to conjure ancient name,
and through the magic of my spell
discover who I am.