Golden Songbird Of Byzantium © Surazeus 2022 12 15 If golden songbird of Byzantium reveals strange sunlight to my bleeding eyes I could perceive vast personality of that blind seer inside dark mountain cave who sees beyond material forms of words to float with stars throughout eternity. Yet I fall back in frame of mortal flesh which conjures conscious god-mind of my brain to laugh with ache of joy how everything still shines with timeless beauty of its being so I would dance with you in moonlit rain to feel our bodies vibe with cosmic mesh. The ghosts of people whose names I forget haunt dim shadows from late afternoon light with silent judgment in my cluttered room where I arrange fragments of strange events in complicated puzzle of world history to see where I am now in maze of myths. Frail paper lantern of my dreaming brain illuminates truths I fear to observe in faces of monsters lurking through time to consume cities men build from bread loaves so I look at my face in broken mirror hoping to see first mother of the world. Waking up in the middle of the stream with my hungry mouth full of unknown words, I sing electric body of my brain which shoots ten thousand angels at the sea where they transform into clones of my mind and wear mask of my face with jesting love. Across teeming estuaries of hope I try to sail home to Byzantium but end up in pristine Chesapeake Bay where I transform from the Owl to the Wolf then run into old woods on rainbow wings to contemplate sweet mystery of our being. Though trapped inside glass television screen I sing prophecies Orpheus concealed to calculate how far I must evolve in psychic phase of surrealist humor to become the God religions invent till my soul freezes into marble statue. When I find blind seer in dark mountain cave she reveals to astonished crowd of seekers that golden songbird of Byzantium dwells in the heart of every human soul so we hold hands by lake of eyes to sing before the meteor demolishes Earth.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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