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Monday, March 24, 2025

Trickster Of Truth

Trickster Of Truth
© Surazeus
2025 03 24

The great horned owl introduces the moon 
into reticent room of my vast heart, 
so I start my day as trickster of truth 
by sending flocks of happy butterflies 
to paint the world with blood-red light of dawn 
that wakes everyone with language of wind. 

The roots of trees draw sorrow from my heart, 
translating unknown fears to humble songs 
that measure curvature of my soul spine 
to speak with dialect of bodied minds 
which cleanses our hearts with glow of respect 
through wakefulness of unmirrored desire. 

In my idyllic world of steady faith 
I play guitar before the empty church 
and sing grand epic of the human race 
that praises humble people of the state 
who go about their business every day 
while face-painted clowns play fake power games. 

My fishing village at end of the lake 
provides bountiful wealth from heart of Earth 
where strong-hearted girls thrive in howling wind 
and cast bright snowflakes far across the land 
that sprout into periwinkles of hope 
where children play chase Sabbath afternoons. 

No more the world-exploring traveler 
I was when I was young and vigorous, 
I now am blowsy-headed gardener, 
dazed by strange beauty of her sun-lit face 
as we tend twisted trees of ghastly fruit 
that nourish the demonic in our hearts. 

Since I will never see the black egret 
wade in wind-rippled pond behind my house, 
I mold green shadows of weird psychic dreams 
in masks that humans wear to play as cows 
which graze among the dancing daffodils 
while I bare my heart to the healing sun. 

Packing emotional baggage of faith 
with false memories my dream-fears invent, 
I walk the signless road of everywhere 
past ladders that extend into the clouds 
to stamp obverse side of the royal coin 
with face of my father, the kind storm god. 

If clouds begin to serenade my ghost 
with the heart-enchanting afterlife lie, 
I will unanchor ship of my fierce heart 
to live unsettled life on restless seas 
so I can find the treasure trove of tropes 
I use to build this virtual world of dreams. 


1 comment:

  1. Orpheus and Ophelia fish by the lake where demonic dreams swirl just below the surface of our happiness.

    ReplyDelete