Verdant Texas Hills

Verdant Texas Hills
© Surazeus
2023 08 05

I remember riding my plain green bike 
up the steep hill on the hot asphalt road 
past the Mizpah Gate to the fountain pool 
where I splash my hands in the sapphire water, 
then enter the red brick library hall 
where I read thick encyclopedia books. 

After reading about alphabet letters, 
combat planes used in the second world war, 
and painting of Christina in pink dress 
crawling in gold wheat field of timeless hope, 
I bike among oak trees by the brown lake 
where black ravens chat on the monument. 

Hot summer sun gleams on dry Texas grass 
so I drink root beer by the monument 
that shows young Ellen White in long green dress 
kneeling before glowing cloud in blue sky 
as mysterious deity with star eyes 
places black book of visions in her hands. 

Opening the green vinyl legal pad, 
I pull black cap off clear plastic bic pen, 
which I make fly slow like a sleek starship, 
then write notes about blind angels I see 
sitting in university classrooms 
where I write formula codes on chalkboards. 

Pushing open thick wood doors in brick hall, 
I enter the gloomy recording studio 
where my grandfather once recorded songs 
that he sang about good deeds of King Jesus, 
but only his silent ghost still remains, 
lingering as sunlight on wood panel walls. 

Climbing over the silver chainlink fence, 
dressed in leather loincloth that Tarzan wore, 
I ride dwarf pony with short stubbled mane 
while he gallops along the barbwire fence, 
and shoot arrows from the small bow I made 
to kill the evil men who steal my land. 

Sitting lotus on the living room floor, 
I turn the large silver knob that loudly clicks 
to change channels on the black and white screen, 
watching television shows I like best 
about people stranded on desert isle 
and trekkers in starships encountering gods. 

The world I lived in during my childhood 
in the small town in verdant Texas hills 
has vanished lost into the twilight zone 
while ghost of my doppelganger rides bike 
back home to the small house by the oak tree 
that burned down long after I moved away.