Sunday, August 27, 2023

Hunger For Great Truth

Hunger For Great Truth
© Surazeus
2023 08 27

How ocean waves discuss my solitude 
with calm reluctance of light on tree leaves 
excites my heart with noble fortitude 
to understand why my blind mother grieves 
at death of flowers in meadows of fear 
when I realize our whole world is a sphere. 

Awake with shiver piercing her soft heart 
on jagged cliff of hunger for great truth, 
Metis watches crows on black starless wings 
circle apple tree with long twisted limbs 
while pondering why her mother Tethys weeps 
over Cronus, who lies dead on cold sand. 

Twin children holding hands in gusting wind, 
Porus and Pomona hide behind rocks 
and watch their mother laugh as ocean spray 
sparkles bright gold in wild chaotic swirls, 
so they offer her apples and walnuts 
when she kneels and kisses their wind-red cheeks. 

Legs flashing white in blur of windy hope, 
Athena runs along ocean beach curve 
and hurls long spear that arches lightning swift 
to pierce wild boar that twitches as it squeals, 
then roasts slabs of meat on hot altar flames 
in temple hall on flat-top pyramid.  

Feeding blind Tethys with tangled gray hair 
strips of moist grilled meat, glazed with honey sauce, 
Athena smiles as Metis feeds the twins, 
then laughs when Pomona, with twinkling eyes, 
snatches food from Porus, who pouts and cries 
till his sister pinches his blushing cheek. 

Holding red apple shining in her hand, 
Metis explains to children of her heart 
that our whole world we perceive with our eyes, 
mountains that teem with plants and animals 
and oceans that swirl in moon-lightened tides, 
is round as this apple that feeds our souls. 

Resting on verdant Meles River shore, 
Athena cradles daughter in her arms, 
whose eyes gleam with light of the silver moon 
as she suckles milk from her fountain breast, 
then sings hymn to moon-eyed Endymion 
whose spirit whispers as wind in tree leaves. 

Driving her car on the highway to work, 
Mary imagines life in ancient times 
when small tribes fished and sang on river shores, 
so different from this global enterprise 
of corporate nation-states producing food, 
yet spirit of Metis glows in her heart. 


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