Who Owns The Tree

Who Owns The Tree
© Surazeus
2024 01 06

I carry memory of lightning with faith 
that people in their hearts want to be good, 
valent with desire for pleasure of love, 
but bitter rain of anger crushes hopes 
so people fight over who owns the tree 
that blossoms with apples of paradise. 

Light bends conceptual forms of things I see 
through weird perspective of the sky-vast eye 
which vibrates with sharp slackness of despair 
when angels glow in surprise of twilight 
with inward phosphorescence of true names 
that joy emits from sphere of broken glass. 

Sad girl who sits on the fountain pool rim 
considers image of the anxious wave 
beyond cathedral of the honeycomb 
pragmatic with uncontainable gloom 
when blind angels measure infinity 
with eyes that writhe in slow serpentine grace. 

Death thinks about me every day and night, 
though I never think about hungry hope, 
upbeat with aggressive plan to attack 
invisible network of privilege 
that binds our bodies in dance of desire, 
rocked by waves of consequential respect. 

Grim cruelty of Nature arrogates 
mute anguish for each person who expects 
positive expression of fake success 
impure with noble dignity of fear 
too heavy for innocent souls to bear 
when we investigate strange tyranny. 

Unseen by foreknowledge of anxious seers, 
books wait on crooked shelves of empty halls 
for mothers to help their children transcend 
heart-numbing anger toward unjust events 
against obvious answers reason supplies 
since humans dread decay of aging flesh. 

The moon finds holes in brains of lonely souls, 
then slips inside to twist old memories 
into fairy tales that help us survive 
when grievance-blinded men with angry guns 
storm gates of Heaven to overthrow God, 
though wind keeps blowing along flowing rivers. 

The only day when the sun never sets 
I wake with curious passion to reveal 
conceptual idol of the last good clown 
who builds sturdy dreams for the homeless poor 
gathered to sing psalms in the twilight zone 
when lightning erases my memories.