Infinity Gleams Small

Infinity Gleams Small
© Surazeus
2023 10 06

Strange tallness of the night that laughs with rain 
reveals where mother of the universe is born 
each hour we feel our bodies glow with light 
because infinity gleams small as dust 
that spirals open from my pulsing heart 
till hunger wakes my mind from dream of hope. 

We always see the other far away 
as shadow creeping slowly on vast plain 
with sad reluctance of the forest stream 
where children make up names to call the sun 
that wheels so fast around the broken eye 
reflecting mirror lake of timeless love. 

Because each bridge I want to cross is ruined 
by sudden laughter of the handless man 
I turn around and face the other way 
till eyes of strangers looking in my heart 
become bright television screens of snow 
erasing me from Earth when midnight burns. 

My mother glows unseen inside oak tree 
that walks around the castle seven times 
to prove power kings wield with divine right 
is nothing more than illusion of smoke 
that billows from flames of aggressive faith 
so I stand on the hill and sing to birds. 

Nine women sitting in the bookstore think 
so fast that lightning sparkles from their eyes 
though I give each one cup of tea to drink 
while they invent violins with their mouths 
transforming ocean waves to symphonies 
that ring in harmony with hammer blows. 

Yet when I see dead leaf of timeless truth 
float from high window of the fractured tower 
I know our universe of changing forms 
evolves through random particles of thought 
that splatter in patterns of cryptic code 
on faces of strangers on signless roads. 

Now bookless in dark swamp of singing frogs 
I measure flow of time with flames of rain 
that mirror Star Mind of the universe 
who wakes inside my brain with snarky smirk 
while I sing solemn hymn of solitude 
to celebrate Earth not getting blown up. 

When saddest demon in the world of dreams 
approaches me outside library door 
I show her cute chimpanzee on the moon 
who fixes broken clocks in trunks of trees 
as if mysterious curves of honest fear 
translate reality to dreams in books.