World Inside My Head

World Inside My Head
© Surazeus
2023 11 16

When I transform into the serious owl 
I fly down from the rotting Tree of Life 
to perch on bust of Pallas by the hearth 
and ponder wreckage of the ship of state 
that flounders on storm waves of troubled times 
as depicted on the shield of Achilles. 

Just as I feel world peace will bloom again 
the weeping woman by the Tree of Life 
pours unhappiness from her bitter heart 
after crawling from her bomb-blasted home 
to ponder magnificent cause of being 
as depicted by the statue of Mary. 

While we join processional of lost souls 
who search for mysterious Tree of Life 
we gather in ruins of glass cathedrals 
to address clouds with polite discontent 
on the weird state of things in world affairs 
as depicted on the large comics page. 

Though darkened ghosts of ancient comedy 
dance with abandon around Tree of Life, 
I am not less myself when I descend 
lonely stairs from Heaven where spacious homes 
are too expensive for me to afford 
as depicted on the late evening news. 

Meditating in sunlight of the room 
to imagine how my spirit can change 
with twisted completion of the weird truth, 
I measure heavy surges of the light 
to prove apples are made from sun and rain 
as depicted in book of formulas. 

Still the curious owl with nothing to say, 
I remain hidden in the Tree of Life 
so I can see how people play their roles 
as movie stars on global stage of lies 
while I declaim elegy of the jester 
as depicted in gallery of dreams. 

Because I am the world inside my head, 
crowded with mute ghosts of the nameless dead, 
I consider the chicken with nine eyes 
who judges me with standards I designed 
so I can find freedom outside myself 
as depicted in the new story book. 

Rays of the sun loop all around the Earth 
to glow with starless faith in Tree of Life 
so we can believe blind astronomers 
who always know just how the moon will shine 
to show how time repeats our urgent lives 
as depicted in how atoms expand.