True Reincarnation Of Diana

True Reincarnation Of Diana
© Surazeus
2018 12 04

Barren emptiness of the silent house
provides nurturing space for my mute mind
to dream countless scenarios of life
and organize strict calculating words
that conjure them as visions in the minds
of strangers who read them after my death.

Young mother clutches baby to her breast
and savors devouring hunger of hope
it feels when sucking milk from her mute mind,
so she scribbles words on small notebook page
to express compassion for its young soul,
which she types and dates for new book of poems.

Sylvia stares at the light bulb glowing gold
as infinite truth beaming from her heart
with every pulse of agony for love
that spirals blood through frail body of flesh
when thousands of hands reach out from bare walls
to eat her god-skin like communion wafers.

I am the true reincarnation of Diana,
for my soul flares flimsy as pale moon beams
that shimmer through window frosted with ice
which illuminates agony of truth
stabbing my heart with every waking hour
with conscious awareness I am alive.

I would rather be Ariel, wild spirit
of whispering tree and ocean wave set free
by haughty Prospero on lonely isle
where phantoms obey his stern male command
while I flutter on frail Icarian wings
to guide lost souls on quest for the real truth.

Sitting in kitchen of the cold farm house,
Sylvia tosses orange into the vast sky
and catches the sun with ice-mountain hands
to channel energy through anguished heart
that pulses with wild faith of galaxies
which spiral in every cell of our bodies.