Through Their Forgotten Eyes © Surazeus 2019 02 27 Just as I almost come to comprehend vast complexity of our universe, dream bubble of my vision on its nature pops into sparkles of oblivion. Skipping carelessly among daffodils, with dreamy eyes in slanting rays of light, I chase apparitions of human faces that smile as petals on a wet black bough. Astonished at emptiness of our faith, I tumble into abyss of despair when I skip laughing off cliff of far sight, and crawl broken in slimed slough of despond. Grasping tufts of grass in my trembling hand, I ask the silent face of my dead father, whom I see in glow cloud of ancient wisdom, about true nature of our universe. I contain multitudes of long-dead people, invisible inside cave of my head, whose voices echo in wave-sloshing winds that swirl around me on bright mountain top. I stand on green island in wild blue sea on enormous globe spinning into clouds where blazing eye of light too bright to see silently watches me walk everywhere. Bright eye of light is always in the sky since I am emptiness of hungry hope so when my head spins dizzy in vast space I lie down on grass to become all things. They flock around me in cool gusting wind, all the poets and storytellers whose words glow black on pages in ten thousand books after their bodies all dissolved to dust. They watch me with eyes of infinite thought through dreams of twilight possibilities which merge all multiverses into world where I now wake with weird astonishment. Though I reach my hand out in swirling gloom, hoping to capture essence of each soul, and mold their spirit in mask of their face, they vanish away on butterfly wings. Their names are written in tangled tree roots that curl down into dark heart of our world, but only fruit of their expressions bloom from silent skeletons of their lost souls. So once again I rise up from frail Earth and stand on mountain top of aching hope, then breathe deep spirit of each whispering soul to see this world through their forgotten eyes.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
Through Their Forgotten Eyes
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