Dreams In The Box © Surazeus 2023 03 24 Gracefully toward revolution of time I wear white nothingness to hide my heart while following the sad stream in the woods, but stop beside abandoned mill of wealth to chat with willow trees about true love safe in the farmhouse on the silver moon. The lonely path to the weird moon reveals strange shelter from despair of falling snow without tumult of beauty reconciled by music that must bring to us our thoughts in rarefied form through infinity with furious sigh of monstrous innocence. Though pleasure might persist in naked dream of snow-capped mountains, based on fragile hope contained in heart-shaped windows of the church, we know depth of the ocean we would seek when the heavenly moment of death blooms beyond lewd horizon of the vast mind. The fabulous face of the tongueless seer still ornaments forest of laughing birds who openly discuss religious faith as final diversion centurions buy from shadows in hungry boats never found again in flesh of incarnated word. We cannot understand fastidious faith more acquiescent to the lion smile with interest in how history allocates fragments of wealth left for impatient ghosts who ramble on about how bookstores keep secret stories only children remember. If walls of light collapse before glad dawn we hesitate to measure traffic flow since blue mirror sleeping in the lost land desires emergence of the urgent law with innumerable leaves swirling in wind till she finds flowing stream of everywhere. Back to small homes of silver attitudes grim ravens fly above my subtle sea to meet peach Glow Cloud over nameless town who asks for wisdom of the dormant seed as we gaze moodily at mirrored wind to wonder why we always must move on. Since the last song of the eagle retires at tangled disalignment of the clock we talk about world peace with no one else as if we understand why trees still weep in thinnest shadow of the bitter moon, even as we pack our dreams in the box.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Friday, March 24, 2023
Dreams In The Box
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