Nothing But My Hunger

Nothing But My Hunger
© Surazeus
2019 01 12

When I am in large crowd of talking people
I want to feel soul of each individual
shining in complete array of its truth
so I can comprehend force of their faith
and aid their journey to their promised land
where they fulfill desires of their strange dream.

My mental comprehension of this world
absorbs beamed energies of aching hope,
refracts expressions of their thoughts in words,
and reflects apparition of their souls
so I become the image they project
and wear the mask of the face they discard.

So in large crowd where people form small groups
and chatter visions of exhausting hopes
I sit alone, cold paralyzed by fear
so many visions beaming opposed wants
compete to be the world view of the truth,
conflicting and combining mental scopes.

Yet all those people in that talking crowd
base individual visions of vast world
on basic principle that defines truth
contrary to perceptions of my mind
so all these fantasies their words project
shimmer frail as glass church in storm of hail.

I step outside the fragile walls of church
and feel the spell from mouths of preaching pastors
vanish in warm glow of indifferent sun,
and vision of this world their scriptures teach
dissipates as fog in glow of clear light
so nothing but my hunger remains real.

I throw away the masks of nameless friends
and walk away from crowded talking hall
to wander silent in vast wilderness
where wind in grass and water among rocks
alone discuss the meaning of this world
so I become the tree by the clear lake.