Till All Our Sorrows Flow

Till All Our Sorrows Flow
© Surazeus
2019 03 11

Wherever children call forgotten names 
of rain angels that dance on flashing lake, 
we will wake from memory of their childhood 
when we are way too old to understand 
coded riddles of the way fruit trees laugh 
with aching joy to still be alive now. 

We sit together on the lush lake shore 
and talk about everything we once thought 
till our heads are empty of lost obsessions 
so we observe new ripples of strange time 
flowing across the surface of our eyes 
till we dissolve in memories of our hopes. 

The lake knows the mystery of our desires, 
for hidden in its silent depths still lurk 
wild aching passions we long to express 
through uncontrolled dance of our flailing limbs 
to discover limits that bind our bodies 
though we leap high to become the bright wind. 

Insistent drum of rain on cottage roof 
supplies strict rhythm of expressive time 
so we sing slow in tune with aching rhyme 
through melancholy vibe of psychic truth 
that we may yet survive indifferent wind 
which crushes everything we built on hope. 

So curling up from dark abyss of fear, 
strange horror spirals outward from my heart 
in heart-enchanting melody of faith 
that though we vanish in black gloom of death 
we may taste pleasure while our hearts still throb 
in steady rhythm with the beating rain. 

Pale white in red glow of stark evening sun, 
their faces stare at me in silent awe 
when I cease singing words of aching hope, 
and thoughts I sang drip silent from frail leaves 
to splash and flow as tears down every cheek 
till all our sorrows flow lost down the river.