© Surazeus 2023 07 18 We meet in eternity of our dreams on verdant shore of the silver-eyed stream in Moon Valley where the Dark Tower stands on rugged hill where gods are crucified, to keep each other safe from numbing fear by singing melancholy hymns of hope. With no more stories of our fight to live to share in darkness of the evening gloom we watch the silent flames of sunset glow on bones of warriors scattered in wheat fields long after they fought battles in world wars, and thus we cherish hard-won peace of death. Together on lush island of despair we wait beneath the twisted apple tree for time to spin our bodies into ghosts since we can only live each day that comes on clacking wheels of wagons full of woe to wait good news that Parsifal returns. We cannot travel backward to the past for all the matter of the universe keeps flowing forward in strict stream of time that carries fragile boat our bodies form from cave of birth on mountain slope of hope to sea of death that swallows us in night. Since humble Gordias, driving cart of fruit, first paused at shrine in Telmissus to ask wise Oracle of grim Sabazius for guidance to establish paradise, my heart has flown on eagle wings of faith forever westward with the setting sun. Though bodies of my ancestors are gone as swirls of dust in hot indifferent wind their conscious vision of this blooming world, programmed by immortal soul of our genes, glows bright with honest faith within my brain so they are all awake inside my heart. By riding four-wheeled wagon of my hope, pulled by swift-winged horse of stoic faith, I travel forward faster across space in time machine Ezekiel designed, powered by piston engine of Barsantus, to build new home in wilds of Zathamar. Though Cybele my love still waits for me back home in empty hall of Gordium I can no longer travel back in time to long-lost land where my ancestors lived, from Scythia through Avalon to Oregon, so I dwell in Okoni, my new home.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Tuesday, July 18, 2023
So I Dwell In Okoni
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