New Reasons To Live

New Reasons To Live
© Surazeus
2024 04 05

Each time I survive the violet night 
I walk out to the fig tree by the fence 
and watch the sunlight paint thoughts into shape 
so I consider why organic beings 
suffer from hurt and loss with tangled roots 
that seek beauty deep in heart of the Earth. 

I sway with trees that dance in mindless wind 
and shout to clouds how much I want to live, 
then touch the chilly moist soil of the Earth 
to feel potential passion surge with hope 
that I can generate from ache of fruit 
new body for my soul to live again. 

The only afterlife I know is real 
is when I generate body of flesh 
with seed of passion planted by the sun 
in child who sprouts from vision of my brain 
to replicate this face I call my own 
who stares at me from water of the Earth. 

The river of the world, that never stops 
flowing from laughter of rain in the sky, 
softens my heart with caress of its song 
that leaves time-polished stones along my path 
where I walk every day among fruit trees 
to see if I am still alive on Earth. 

Though I wake up by accident of breath 
each morning at red blazing flash of light, 
I walk circling path in grove of fruit trees 
along slow-curving river shore of time 
till I discover new reasons to live 
in song of sparrows on fragile tree limbs. 

I sing with whole body of my delight 
while floating dizzily on the large flat stone 
high on top the lush hill of wind-swirled grass 
when I see how life-spinning Earth is round 
as ripe green apple gleaming in my hand 
that blows my mind with its beautiful taste. 

Then far away on distant river shore 
I see small herd of horses with long tails 
gallop swiftly with joy of random being, 
and I delight in how their flowing manes 
create this Earth from passion of their hearts 
till I vanish through vacancy of faith. 

Amazed to wake again another day, 
I wonder why I sink into dark sleep 
and vanish in the lightless gloom of night 
as if my spirit walks wet moonlit hills 
to sing with ravens of the midnight hour 
who visit me as I write in the tower.