Ghost Of The Sun

Ghost Of The Sun
© Surazeus
2022 02 01

When I forget I am not yet alive 
I stand in doorway to nowhere and cry. 
I talk to the fountain about the cave 
where wingless angels gather to ask why. 
I walk narrow alley to the beyond 
as children play after death in the pond. 

Because our planet is ghost of the sun 
we rearrange puzzles of truth in myths. 
I vanish at flash of the magic gun 
that crowns my shadow king of monoliths. 
The rain that falls on my face does not care 
whether I live or die in the star flare. 

When I remember to wear my blank face 
I run in meadow with horses and laugh. 
Stabilized process of the memory trace 
preserves your spirit in my psychograph. 
Though we sit together we never talk, 
yet translate sad song of the timeless clock. 

Uncanny words rain on the lonely hill 
to wash away footsteps of my lost faith. 
The apple on the dusty windowsill 
spreads raven wings to fly as eyeless wraith. 
Light glitters in empty void of my heart 
awake as atom measured by the chart. 

Alone I hear the lightning flash of time 
that spirals from stone in the flowing stream. 
Though no one loves me except the mute mime 
I love every soul on the human team. 
Atoms of every world flow from one source 
to calculate vibrant spell of the Force. 

Vague face of sorrow in the careless mist 
observes my weeping on the signless road. 
Inspired by passion of the hedonist, 
I float on mushroom as the buddha toad. 
Whole history of the Earth glows in my brain 
through crystal star eyes of the singing rain. 

Meditating on yellow rose of love, 
the white butterfly channels soul of God. 
Reaching my hands to empty sky above, 
I pray for chance to join the Justice Squad. 
Undone by horror of the faceless mind, 
I catalog every daemon I find. 

When I remember I am not yet dead 
I conceal my soul in words of the book. 
Alone on mountain of honey-soaked bread, 
I weep in tomb of the immortal cook. 
Escaping idol of the self I was, 
I calculate flow of the primal cause.