Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Religion Of Bright Sunlight

Religion Of Bright Sunlight
© Surazeus
2022 01 18

Because the shadow might not understand 
religion of bright sunlight on the lake 
I must explain how wind defines my soul 
through wicked whirling of wonderful weird 
too strange for ancient books of honesty 
that prove effective ploy of modesty. 

Whenever children find the skeleton 
of giant dragons buried in hill mud 
they carry its skull to the temple hall 
where the oldest woman in the world chants 
weird spells to conjure spirit of its flight 
so we understand mystery of the light. 

The blind woman under the apple tree, 
pregnant with spirit of the dancing wolf, 
dreams evolution of the universe 
that spirals from first flash of the big bang 
as she feels her child blooming in her heart 
who will grow up to invent the star chart. 

Gazing up at formless glow of gold thought 
that shimmers vast expanse of nothingness, 
the blind woman explains to faceless ghosts 
how raindrops spark seeds to bloom into trees 
through the days of our lives as the world turns 
while her daughter runs on the beach with terns. 

The pregnant woman sitting on the hill 
one hundred thousand years under the tree 
watches generations of human beings 
swarm around the globe in waves of desire 
that surge in tides from visions of her brain 
at flash of day and night through sun and rain. 

You break my heart in half ten thousand times, 
she whispers to the stone that never cries, 
so people sprout from sparkles of her mind 
to populate vales sea to shining sea, 
constructing temples for sacred love rites 
that generate life from the script hope writes. 

The woman sitting on the throne of swords 
bears new-born son of the crucified god 
while castle vampires pledge their fealty 
till zombies overthrow their monarchy 
and Garden of Eden is bombed by planes 
till devils fight in election campaigns. 

Because the shadow animates my heart 
to build walls of Heaven from dragon skulls 
I sing folk hymns how light defines my soul 
through wicked whirling of wonderful weird 
too true for ancient books of chivalry 
that guide civil wars of democracy. 


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