Strange Fantasies I Dream © Surazeus 2023 09 28 While sitting in church, suffused with sunlight glowing on faces of angels who sing sweet hymns, I realize all my fantasies of climbing marble stairs to temple hall, where I write verses on long parchment scroll, are memories of lives my ancestors lived. Those shining halls of Heaven I envision as home where I play lyre by sparkling pool, while boys and girls in white gowns twirl in dance to match their hearts in couples pledged to mate, still stand on hilltops by the wine-eyed sea as ruins crumbling now two thousand years. Torn bodies of warriors, gone mad with grief during battle to kidnap fertile brides, transform into hills where marble fanes gleam with songs of angels in heavenly choirs till we build factories to make engine cars that glide on highways paved with bones of gods. Many generations of reborn souls sprout from bodies of mothers to assert will to generate new bodies from genes who construct wagons and boats from tall trees to journey along rivers from burned cities and build new cities in valleys of wind. I feel tense energy of will to power motivate my body with ancient hopes to build eternal paradise with trees blooming fruit for my children to consume, but walls I build to protect them from harm crumble from relentless turning of time. Called by the faceless Father in the Sky, my first ancestor left garden of fruit to build vast city maze of ziggurats, then journeyed west ten thousand years to find paradise lost in the future of faith, till I stand today under the bright moon. That same moon and stars that once lit their way as my ancestors walked long signless roads still shine now on me in this distant land where I feel energy of countless years surge through my body with bold tides of change, which charges my heart with faith in the future. Strange fantasies I dream in reverie, where individuals of my bloodline strive to overcome all obstacles of fear, provide archetypal framework of action which programs how I perform my own role as nameless nobody singing in rain.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Thursday, September 28, 2023
Strange Fantasies I Dream
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