River Of Singing Heads

River Of Singing Heads
© Surazeus
2018 06 01

The young girl stands on the round mound of grass
between two wide lanes of cars streaming past
that glitter bright in the indifferent sun,
and tries to remember vision of truth.

She walks up and down every city street
for over forty years, stopping to beam
wordless prophecies at every locked door,
till she becomes invisible to all.

When she follows Orpheus back from Hell
she walks right on past him when he looks back
but he thinks she falls back into the shadows
so she walks by river of singing heads.

She makes clouds gather in the clear blue sky
to form enormous shapes of gleaming marble
that mimic every person you might know
so you stop and look at the love she glows.

She walks among shelves in library halls,
touching heads of every person who reads
so they feel moment of transcendent grace
transport them to paradise we all dream.

She stops and watches me while I type words
to weave lone letters in weird sentences
that code brains to envision dreams of life
long hidden in ringing coils of our genes.

I picture her watching me while I type
but when I turn to look into her eyes
I see sunlight gleaming on book of poems
my ancestor wrote four hundred years ago.

The young girl stands on my forgotten grave
and holds my singing skull up to the sky
so I can see how the world will change in time
five billion years when the sun swallows us.