Story Most Worthy To Sing

Story Most Worth To Sing
© Surazeus
2024 03 12

My self-reflection on my mirror brain 
tricks Ungod into thinking I am her, 
so she veils me in sorrow-fog of faith 
that leads me astray on the signless road 
my mother blazed with hill-exploring feet 
till I wander in her lush apple grove. 

Pushing through thick canopy of green leaves, 
I stumble into clearing by deep cave 
where she bathes naked in the sparkling pool, 
my eyes blinded by pure beauty of truth, 
so I understand why this world exists, 
awed by perfection of her moon-bright eyes. 

My conscious fear of Death inside my heart 
tricks Ungod into giving me ripe fruit, 
brewed sweet in mushroom wine that blows my mind 
as I dance laughing in star-flashing rain 
when she embraces me in eager arms 
and draws immortal spirit from my brain. 

Filling baskets in wagons with ripe apples, 
I wipe sweat from my frustrated forehead 
while she lounges in cool refreshing pool, 
belly swelling huge with child of my heart, 
so I smile and wave at girl I adore 
who beams while Erato plays ringing lyre. 

My haughty pride in fertile fatherhood 
tricks Ungod into crowning my bowed head 
with laurel wreath as I present our child 
to the cheering crowd of satyrs and nymphs 
who dance all night to celebrate rebirth 
of Kritheis from soul of the river ghost. 

Teaching young boy to strum strings of the lyre, 
I teach my son how to compose sweet hymns 
with clear harmonious tones of lofty faith 
that praise noble deeds of heroic gods 
who protect mankind from demons of fear 
when Zeus battles Kronos to rule the Earth. 

My meditation on path of my life 
tricks Ungod into giving me star map 
by which I navigate vast maze of myths 
to find the story most worthy to sing 
that presents tragic fall of the great city 
and prosperity of the country town. 

Limping wounded on the wild ocean shore, 
I cry out to Zeus in the empty sky 
for strong courage to fight the gang of thieves 
who drove my family from our paradise, 
but lie on sand as my wife and son weep, 
then sink in gloom as my son sings lament.