Aware That I Am Real © Surazeus 2023 12 07 The voice at the other end of my life calls me to swim in memories of the time I first became aware that I am real while rising ever upward toward the light that shimmers through eccentric waves of thought till I burst through clear surface of the sea. The moving water is no metaphor that carries my mind across the vast void through repetition of elegant waves which return to the beginning of the end with each expression of sorrow-bound joy atoning for the words I never speak. With the ax Daedalus chops down the tree, then with the saw he cuts it into parts which he assembles in the cart with wheels that bears the statue of the formless god his mind invents from nothingness of hope while children strew it with flowers and fruit. His son refuses to wear the wood wings that he invents to escape from the tower which towers over labyrinth of halls he designed to trap monster of desire the young princess bore from seed of the bull who laughs at children learning how to fish. He cannot rest after working six days to build the palace with ten thousand doors so Hercules can find his way back home though he wanders lost in the Underworld after drinking potion of mushroom mead to search for Venus in dark swirling mist. If they decide to fight over the girl who hides in shadow of the apple tree, Daedalus and Hercules would destroy beautiful garden where wild Maenads dance ten thousand years as empires rise and fall to prove fertility could conquer death. Instead they reconcile knowledge with strength in shining wisdom of the singing nymph who climbs the wind-swept pyramid of skulls to reign over vast kingdom of the mad who fight each other for whose god is real while the Earth keeps on spinning in the void. The boulder that rolled off the mountaintop one million years before I wake from dream, and lodged against grassy bank of the stream, realigns ceaseless current of star light, so when I pluck apple from Tree of Life I will remember timeless glow of love.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Thursday, December 7, 2023
Aware That I Am Real
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