Ghost Of My Sorrow © Surazeus 2024 03 27 This morning in the dreary mist of dawn, while I design virtual model of Earth in maps with stories of the human race, suddenly I hear ruthless tapping sound as if someone raps at my locked front door, as if ghost of my sorrow haunts my heart. Stark silver glow of clouds above tall oaks erases shadows from my quiet home while I make model of life-spinning Earth that imitates unchanging state of peace as if Death stalks not people of the world, as if ghost of my sorrow seeks my hope. I ponder as I tend lush river shore if angel from heaven with scroll of truth, or demon from hell with wand of deception, seeks entrance to calm haven of my heart, as if Despair mocks my hope for world peace, as if ghost of my sorrow thirsts for faith. Then I recall two days ago at noon some robin guarding empty nest of faith began to perch on back deck rail of rage to attack its reflection in bay window, as if to drive off rival of its love, as if ghost of my sorrow fights its fear. I wonder then with sly ironic sneer if that fierce robin tapping at my door would fly inside with wings of Icarus and perch on ghostly idol of Athena, as if it comes from grim Plutonian shore, as if ghost of my sorrow understands. Then I imagine how with wings of flame the robin tapping at my locked front door would speak with chthonian voice of bitter truth that man invents God to enforce his will, as if it sees through civil mask of pride, as if ghost of my sorrow knows our minds. I would the robin tapping at my door bring news that men with just hearts work for good to fight the thief who would crown himself king when we unite to guard democracy, as if to warn us our empire may fall, as if ghost of my sorrow calls for freedom. The robin perched on idol of Athena glares down at me from swirling mist of fear, so I soar high on wings of Icarus with message of Earendil for the world, as if I trust democracy prevails, as if ghost of my sorrow spurs my soul.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Wednesday, March 27, 2024
Ghost Of My Sorrow
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Two days ago a robin started perching on the back deck rail and attacks its reflection in the bay window. I keep shooing it away.
ReplyDeleteSince yesterday it has started perching on the front door sill and pecks the door. When I open the door it flies to the lawn and "glares" at me.