Silver Starfire Of Death
© Surazeus
2018 05 24
Hooded in the dark mantle of the night,
Death walks beside me on the road of light
and shows me how to navigate the maze
beyond the wall of paradise in haze.
I pluck ripe apples from the Tree of Life
and tear thick honeycombs from the beehive
to brew sweet apple cider at the hearth
where the woman screaming in pain gives birth.
Face wet from drops of wind-blown river spray,
she molds my body from foul oozing clay
then breathes silver starfire into my heart
so I fly till my body falls apart.
When flowers blossom from my fecund brain
I run in wild forest to catch the rain
then dance in flashing rays on river shore
to express sorrowful joy with cosmic roar.
After steaming it soft in bubbling pot
I bend oak plank into wheel I wrought
to imitate the spiral of the sun
which dreams my true soul with the eye of One.
Wagon loaded with baskets of ripe fruit
rumbles on shore to music of my flute
when we blaze new trail along flowing stream
while our faces glow in the last sun beam.
The strange silver bird with unmoving wings
glides among clouds where the pure angel sings
then lands in wheat field with strange roaring sound
so God steps out and walks on mortal ground.
The immortal god with shining blue eyes
offers to take me up into the skies
and show me the shape of the world below
so I can see where last apple trees grow.
I step on board his silver chariot
then change into egalitarian
when he soars off the world into frail clouds
where angels wander in burial shrouds.
While gazing at the world I catch my breath
to glide in the sun-sparkling rain with Death
who drinks the blood of billions as they die,
till no one lives in the sphere of my eye.
When Death calls out my name in cloud-high flight
I turn to see her eyes blazing pure light,
and from this spinning world of changing shapes
she vanishes into vines of red grapes.
© Surazeus
2018 05 24
Hooded in the dark mantle of the night,
Death walks beside me on the road of light
and shows me how to navigate the maze
beyond the wall of paradise in haze.
I pluck ripe apples from the Tree of Life
and tear thick honeycombs from the beehive
to brew sweet apple cider at the hearth
where the woman screaming in pain gives birth.
Face wet from drops of wind-blown river spray,
she molds my body from foul oozing clay
then breathes silver starfire into my heart
so I fly till my body falls apart.
When flowers blossom from my fecund brain
I run in wild forest to catch the rain
then dance in flashing rays on river shore
to express sorrowful joy with cosmic roar.
After steaming it soft in bubbling pot
I bend oak plank into wheel I wrought
to imitate the spiral of the sun
which dreams my true soul with the eye of One.
Wagon loaded with baskets of ripe fruit
rumbles on shore to music of my flute
when we blaze new trail along flowing stream
while our faces glow in the last sun beam.
The strange silver bird with unmoving wings
glides among clouds where the pure angel sings
then lands in wheat field with strange roaring sound
so God steps out and walks on mortal ground.
The immortal god with shining blue eyes
offers to take me up into the skies
and show me the shape of the world below
so I can see where last apple trees grow.
I step on board his silver chariot
then change into egalitarian
when he soars off the world into frail clouds
where angels wander in burial shrouds.
While gazing at the world I catch my breath
to glide in the sun-sparkling rain with Death
who drinks the blood of billions as they die,
till no one lives in the sphere of my eye.
When Death calls out my name in cloud-high flight
I turn to see her eyes blazing pure light,
and from this spinning world of changing shapes
she vanishes into vines of red grapes.
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