Quaint Holiday Of Thanks

Quaint Holiday Of Thanks
© Surazeus
2023 11 23

Strange flowers blossom from heart of the Earth 
in wordless grove of shadow-tangled faith 
where wandering children gather to avoid 
rumble of car engines on asphalt roads 
that trap ancient demons in gears and pipes 
to energize global machine of wealth. 

Lamp-lit spray rises from thin copper pipes 
to mist faces of people in town square 
who slowly sidle around fountain pool 
while holding hands with strangers they adore 
to celebrate quaint holiday of thanks 
as pungent scents of food from restaurants spread. 

This timeless hour of calm laborless peace 
we share with companions of aching joy 
confines our sorrows to the unlocked box 
we hide behind expensive vase of trust 
so we can restore energy of love 
with hope enough to evade death today. 

Embraced with intimate knowledge of death, 
we linger by oak trees in the town square 
to hear the old man with long frazzled hair 
play famous folk songs on battered guitar 
that conjure memories of rebellious youth 
when we protested wars of genocide. 

Cool breeze from the ship-rippled river blow 
hair around our faces in Autumn glow 
with scent of pumpkin pie and apple cider 
in harmony with voices in the park 
who join the singer to recount sad tale 
of lost boys in some long-forgotten land. 

Bloodied faces of men, women, and children, 
pulled from gray rubble of bomb-blasted homes, 
gaze at us from large television screens 
as we feast at quaint holiday of thanks 
far from desert waste of the Holy Land 
where another prophet has just been born. 

I cannot cry out from my wilderness 
far from vast Lake of Stars in Scythian hills 
where my ancestors gathered around hearths 
to feast on bounty of the harvest moon 
and drink bitter wine of unspoken hope 
while singing about birth of the Star Girl. 

Sharp clang of hammers in bright Cave of Dreams 
reveals ambition of grim exiled king 
to fight brute tyrant in castle of gold 
for right to live free in this fertile land 
so we can gather families in fruit gardens 
to celebrate quaint holiday of thanks.