Spirit House Of Hope

Spirit House Of Hope
© Surazeus
2019 03 11

I love how the river flows winding wide 
curves of elegant grace through rolling hills 
of trembling passion to the sloshing sea 
where I was molded by currents of hope 
that still weave flashing neurons of my brain 
in rhythm with pulsing waves of desire. 

Soft ripple of the river current flow 
caresses my face with loving compassion 
when I crawl grasping diamonds through swift stream 
from deep cold ocean where my mind was formed 
to slither in tranquil pool of fresh water 
where I float forever in sensual glow. 

While stretching sensually in warm sun glow, 
I sing vibration of my aching heart 
to generate new body for my soul, 
then he grasps my heart tight to fertilize 
eggs of my hope before they leave my womb 
so they transform into my replicants. 

My sister spews her eggs into still pool 
before he can fertilize them with seed 
so they swirl away in swift flushing flow 
while mine cluster tight around me and grow 
from wiggling tadpoles into four-legged lizards 
who crawl on river shore and eat insects. 

When giant spider with blood-sucking fangs 
leaps from stalk to consume our throbbing souls, 
we climb high tree and skitter on long limbs 
where wind brushes our feather-scales to fur, 
so we leap limb to limb with grasping hands, 
then cuddle making love where apples bloom. 

Plucking ripe apple with large grasping hands, 
I leap from tree and slide into sea waves 
where I walk upright in high-surging tide, 
dancing on long legs to keep my head up high, 
then walk on shore while grasping stick and stone 
to huddle on vast plain where milk cows graze. 

Eating mushrooms that flash dreams in my eyes, 
I sing flowing words of heart-aching tunes 
to symbolize connection between sounds 
and objects with qualities that perform 
actions animated by urgent desire 
to hunt with my family on river shore. 

Clumping thick clay that bakes hard in sunlight, 
I stack bricks to pave hill with pyramid 
where we sit safe in spirit house of hope 
to feast on bread and sing tales of our eyes 
when Mother Amen names each human soul 
as we explore our world with grasping hands.