House Of Water

House Of Water
© Surazeus
2023 11 09

When I return home to the house of water 
that I built in the middle of the ocean, 
my prayers transform bombs falling from the sky 
into eggs that generate dragon children 
who will rise from the burning bush of fear 
to build paradise on the skulls of hate. 

I will hang photos in the house of water 
that show every human being ever born 
who woke from dream time of the glowing sun 
to give each other secret name of love 
till Death erased their bodies from the air 
so dust of their minds forms the Earth I touch. 

My heart is throbbing in the house of water 
with psychic passion of the octopus 
who teaches me how to read light of stars 
that light the golden path of fate I walk 
to find paradise beyond the waste land 
where I dig the grave of my dreamless soul. 

Awake with shadows in the house of water, 
I walk outside the door of hopeless faith 
to grove of fruit trees by the singing river 
where I remember my ancestral lives 
evolving from fish into wingless angel 
who alone has survived each holocaust. 

Still searching for truth in the house of water 
that multiplies from middle of the ocean, 
I listen to faceless people I meet 
who tell me how they managed to survive 
destruction of the paradise they built 
by blind men who try to control the rain. 

Haunted by sad ghosts in the house of water 
whose souls were murdered in the genocide, 
I place their beating hearts on windowpanes 
so they can sprout strong wings of reborn hope 
and fly from paradise destroyed by bombs 
with feathers tangled in the barbwire fence. 

Since I live with Death in the house of water, 
who teaches our wild children how to sing, 
I can walk crowded streets of the dream maze 
and give special masks to the nameless ghosts 
so they can live in peace on Planet Earth, 
till I wake mute in ruins of Paradise. 

After I escape from the house of water 
that I built in the middle of the ocean 
I will plant the bombs that fall from the sky 
in the wind-swept dunes of paradise lost 
so they will blossom into apple trees 
that feed descendants of our nameless ghosts.