Myth Of Nameless God

Myth Of Nameless God
© Surazeus
2018 06 10

Rain drops sparkle on the soft grass at dawn,
reflecting in their sphere of molecules
complex faces of every conscious soul
who ever wandered by this patch of lawn.

I feel your presence by me in the grass
while I gaze unmoving at pale blue sky
so I dream the universe in my eye
since you will vanish if I look at you.

We live alone together in our home
and smile our pleasantries when we pass by
to wander in the labyrinth of our dreams,
then I read books and daydream I can fly.

I do not worry much of world events
because leaders of countries half the time
are greedy tyrants who want to control
how people live on the wide open land.

In some parallel universe I play
mad bearded prophet on the White House lawn
like Jeremiah with lightning in my eyes
shouting riddles at the arrogant king.

I drive sleek shining car on mountain road
that winds around hills with sky-painting pines
which overlooks the ancient ocean mirror
where sparkly angels dance on flowing tides.

You are the child on your living room floor
flipping channels on television screen
to watch the history of the universe
in shows and commercials that never cease.

Four boys walk together in silent woods
along the railroad track outside of town
to find the dead man on the river shore
then shoot rockets, hoping to reach the moon.

The young housewife cooking at the hot stove
would be the most successful president
to ever manage our vast diverse state
but she has no ambition to wield power.

I run my right hand over the wet grass
and wonder where each water drop has been
in all the history of our spinning world,
weaving vibrant paths through fabric of time.

Each self-contained package of sentient words
presents in mini-portrait face of truth
whose rainbow vibrations fluctuate aspects
of one vast world in frail fragments of thought.

So long ago I wandered empty highways
in the vast expanse between city zones
far outside the ideological walls
of social groups, translating the mute wind.

I still hear the voices of human souls
disguised as gods in half-forgotten myths
whispering in the wind across signless plains
so I carve poems in dust erased by rains.

So shall I leave the safe walls of my home
to walk through ancient woods of aching hope
and stand on sea shore of our primal love
to sing my hymns for mother of the night?

She may not hear my song of human faith
and may with random lightning strike my soul
so I transform into wild ghost of hope
who sings wordless hymns in the wandering wind.

I feel all seven billion souls on Earth
together sing the hymn of hungry hope
to live beyond the crumbling of our bodies
in universal myth of Nameless God.