Nirvana On The Moon

Nirvana On The Moon
© Surazeus
2023 01 04

Whatever meaning the moon has for me 
I will keep silent as the candlelight 
that reveals strange beauty of your true face 
because I love to perform role where I 
gaze with longing at mirror of the moon 
which reflects the person I adore most. 

The moon that shimmers in the velvet sky, 
silver disk of nonchalant arrogance 
behind tangled branches of the oak tree, 
means nothing more than beautiful desire 
to me because you are always close by, 
close enough for us to understand why. 

To float on pleasure principle of doom, 
I fall asleep each night lit by the moon 
sure I will never wake from dreamless sleep 
till I spread wings of darkness visible 
and soar above half-seen telephone lines 
to steal distraught voices of faceless souls. 

My soul leaps far across abyss of fear 
to jump body to body down through time 
till I wake in Nirvana of my mind 
after four hundred million years of growth 
wherein I cultivate immortal light 
to nurture crystal heart of divine love. 

Though eight billion humans live on this Earth 
I stand alone on lawn of my quaint home 
and stare with timeless ache if honest snark 
at shining spirit of the lifeless rock 
that drags waves of the ocean in wild surge 
where my ancestors learned to walk upright. 

As the world burns with struggles to gain power 
I sing about sweet beauty of our love 
that guides us through the door of honest hope 
which shields our bodies against harsh despair 
for we together, in light of the moon, 
feel we can overcome hard times to thrive. 

With ardent agony of patient faith, 
which motivates progress of my program 
to redesign paradigm of my brain, 
I map massive mythical metaphor 
that signifies the great struggle for life 
in complex nothingness of the stark moon. 

Yet when I break into cavern of Hell, 
to free ghosts of the dead from endless dream 
of ideal shadows on computer screens, 
Ophelia gives me apple of the snake, 
so I strum guitar and sing vision spells 
while she follows me to Tower of Books. 

Transcending wretched sorrow of this world, 
after I reject cruel religious lie 
that Jesus will resurrect us from death, 
I walk in Temple of the Faceless God 
to wear mask of my face on stage of jest 
where I replay farce of my moonless quest. 

Still awake in Nirvana on the moon, 
I feel special kinship of the wild heart 
with those who understand these spells I chant, 
so I curl roots of my soul in the Earth 
to nurture apples blooming from my hands 
because tales we share is our only truth.