Thursday, February 2, 2023

Resurrection Of Orpheus

Resurrection Of Orpheus
© Surazeus
2023 02 02

Nine women collecting herbs in rain-wet woods 
find the singer dead beside the pool 
still clutching his broken lyre to his chest, 
so they cover rotting body with flowers, 
then sing till he disappears in moonlight 
and they hear his melody in the wind. 

Eight thousand years after his painful death 
construction workers, digging up the Earth 
to build new office building of blue glass, 
find his skeleton vibrating in mud, 
so someone calls the archaeologist 
who photographs the laughing skull of God. 

Lightning strikes the skeleton of glass 
that resurrects the singer back to life, 
so workers and the archaeologist 
back away shocked as they gasp in surprise 
when the ancient singer rises from mud 
and walks forward into the maze of myths. 

While walking slowly on the signless road, 
the singer strums the gold lyre in his hands, 
and sings heart-aching melody of truth, 
so thousands of people, in every town 
he passes through on ghastly wings of light, 
join enormous crowd of his followers. 

Leading millions of people in huge crowd 
across the land from sea to shining sea, 
the ancient singer strumming the gold lyre 
keeps walking like relentless robot clown 
as he sings ballad of each human soul 
who ever lives in history of the Earth. 

Terrified of his weird psychotic power, 
the governments of nations in his way 
send armies of tanks and planes to shoot missiles 
that explode in fireballs of fragile egos, 
but still the ancient singer with gold lyre 
marches onward against authority. 

Arriving at gate to the Garden of Eden, 
where God lounges on soft couch eating grapes 
and watching beautiful Apsaras dance, 
the ancient singer with eight billion faces 
sings in cold torrents of arrogant rain 
while plucked lyre strings shoot lasers at the gate. 

Eight billion people storm the gates of Heaven 
to dance among fruit trees of paradise, 
feasting on wisdom from the Tree of Life, 
while the ancient singer with the gold lyre 
dissolves into seeds scattered in the wind 
that sprout apple trees from vast parking lots. 

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