Secret Country Johania

Secret Country Johania
© Surazeus
2025 02 06

They all gather under the sprawling elm 
to share stories about the falling star 
that shines as beacon in the misty night 
to light the road their feet have yet to blaze 
across the windy meadow to the lake 
where the old woman laughs till they all die. 

When the stout man in the long leather coat 
arrives with bag of apples for them all, 
they ask about the country he came from, 
so John explains his land is made of birds 
who like to drop acorns on river shores 
where they all fall asleep just before dawn. 

Hands pressed in crimson mud of wordless fear, 
Johanna looks up through long twisted limbs 
the sprawling elm reaches up to grasp the moon 
which smiles at her through flashing swirl of clouds, 
reluctant to accept the final end 
where lovers embrace in shadow of hope. 

Our shadows merge in one soft gleam of light, 
she wonders when she stands on dizzy Earth, 
embarrassed by compassion she conceals 
from people speaking endless streams of sound 
that never resolve into clear concepts 
which formulate bony light of the moon. 

With sudden flash of insight made of rain, 
Johanna grins with laughter of success 
that she will build from fractured light of time 
new world of peaceful joy from guilty love, 
designed as emblem of the optimist 
that quivers weirdly on the muddy shore. 

Because our moon will never disappear, 
though it waxes and wanes on rainbow hill, 
she asks her shadow hidden in the elm 
why people always die and vanish blank 
as absence of their souls she yearns to see, 
liquid water that curls around her legs. 

Only the Orphean Warbler of fate 
ever answers her desperate query of hope, 
so she opens her hands to offer seeds, 
and stands still with eternity of faith 
while he hops on her arm with casual trust 
at joyful sparkle of her silver eyes. 

I will name my secret country Johania, 
Johanna giggles while she twirls around, 
delighting in how her skirt becomes wings, 
and though she cannot fly high she pretends, 
then everyone under the sprawling elm 
cheers and claps when she dances beyond death.