Fracture Of The Sky © Surazeus 2024 03 30 Weird thunder that fractures the evening sky is not the thunder of my beating heart, so I catch fruit that falls from trembling trees and give them to sad strangers passing by on signless road to find the Promised Land where bones of their ancestors sing to them. The days we have left living on this Earth contract and expand our conscious respect because we measure distance to the sun who pierces our hearts with passion to live when other people attack us with hate so we are forced to kill them to survive. I read ancient history of humankind written in dust of the road where I walk, so I look up at clouds that shine with hope that I may find some way to live with pride by fighting against oppressors and thieves, inspired by principle of liberty. While standing over bodies of the dead, people who dwelled in village of my heart and played special roles in drama of life, I tell the fruit trees stories of their lives while I erase them from dream of this world when I bury them in heart of the Earth. Fierce love that surges from my broken heart flows through crack in world view of my faith so I make myself window to the world with bold belief that children lost in time will find their way back home to live with me with treasures of their dreams in open hands. We choose to live where the wild horses run with frolicking joy in groves of fruit trees that sprout from hills wet with tears of the sun, so we share joy of racing with the wind beyond false boundaries of nations kings carve with swords that divide families in cruel war. We are not birds who can fly above fear and see our troubles with observant eyes to analyze our lives with code of love while soft rain from the distant past reveals beauty of the world we see when we wake to understand how we can live with courage. Yet memories of our hours feasting with joy shine bright as stars in starless gloom of war so we can steer our way with cautious faith through storms of social upheaval toward peace that we create with generous hands of love, working to repair fracture of the sky.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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