Friday, October 5, 2018

Unfolding Sky We Dream

Unfolding Sky We Dream
© Surazeus
2018 10 05

White incandescent sun of silent hills
swirls indifferent dust at mask of my face,
angst of the hot wind around red brick walls
swelling from old sorrow disguised as hope.

The birds stopped singing dismayed elegies
when the sun rose high enough to burn gloom,
so all trees wait in silent misery
for wind to remind us why our eyes gleam.

The river of ghosts in dark dusty woods
dreams blossoms hiding in shadows from heat,
however daring the cracked mirror flash
of our Promethean stubbornness for life.

With heavy breathing of pictureless walls
from hollow places of this empty house
the ghost drifts on snow flakes of summer heat
to kiss each flower in the cracking cement.

Dismantling dark notes from the melody
no breathing human has ever yet hummed,
she names every star that no one can see,
since susurrus of waves shapes the blank face.

This dissonance of chaos locking thoughts
clear in the reeling passion of glass bones
shows how birds soar on updraft of high cliffs
to escape material body for stars.

The vanished phantom on the promontory
scatters petals of roses on my hair
since perfume of lust makes me real again
to touch leaping hearts beyond misty lies.

Light unseen by these eyes of rolling mist
surrenders darkness to strange quirk of faith
in facts observed by measuring tools of truth,
to meditate unfolding sky we dream.

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