Toward The Promised Land © Surazeus 2024 04 18 Because each individual in the world savors strangeness of private memories, we tell each other stories of mute ghosts who haunt our lazy sun-gold afternoons with flashes of times and places long gone, our secret world that vanished in the past. Though more than forty years of life have passed in swirling currents of cultural change, transforming world I knew when I was young, I carry passion of juvenile faith still glowing bright in engine of my heart that nurtures purpose of my will to live. Calm energy of city social life, that carried me down shady streets of hope across landscape of businesses and homes, gleams bright in private vision of my eyes though I now live in strange land far away, inspiring me to savor this new hour. Alone in front yard of home I now own, I stand under oak where the raven dreams, and think of every house where I have lived across this land from sea to shining sea, fifty different homes in fifty-nine years, forever wandering toward the Promised Land. Why should I be surprised that I am lost, since my ancestors journeyed across Earth three hundred thousand years on quest for truth from Egypt to Sumeria to India to China then back along high mountains of the world to wave-washed misty Isle of Avalon. Since Epona first tamed the wind-swift horse, and Helius designed the four-wheeled cart, my ancestors traveled ten thousand years Scythia to Scotland, planting apple seeds, then sailed across the wild Atlantic sea, escaping kings to live in paradise. Always escaping royal police states, controlled by fanatics of mind control who rule with tyranny from castle towers, they journeyed west into the wilderness from Massachusetts to wild Oregon where I was born at far edge of the world. Now paradise is once again oppressed by conservative fascists who demand we slave to build global empire of wealth, but paradise is lost in parking lots where the blind bard sings epic tale of fools while I wander lost toward the Promised Land.
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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