Sunday, May 19, 2024

Calling His True Name

Calling His True Name
© Surazeus
2024 05 19

With ordered steps he walks the righteous road 
past straight miles of rigid telephone poles 
to find fruit trees billowing in sea breeze 
beyond unseen boundary of the nation-state 
where Alph the serpentine-curled river flows 
in strict time with gear-ticking clock of fate. 

Beside round cement pool of self-control 
he stands like twisted pine on wind-bashed cliff 
and strums vibrant strings of celestial spheres 
that twang in tune with grunge engines in cars 
while singing tale about young Charlemagne 
playful with Aslan in Elysian hills. 

From swirling fog that shrouds vast city maze 
lithe daughter of Luthien Tinuviel 
appears in eerie glow of gold street lamp 
with emerald eyes of Aisling piercing gloom, 
long white gown flowing as silver rain clouds 
in spirals from Stygian well of her heart. 

Around his rigid telephone-pole spine 
Astara slowly twirls on wing-light feet 
with supple grace of chainless elegance 
while he attends to lyre of Mercury 
with taut restraint of regulating touch 
that reins aggressive passion of his song. 

When flow of psychic energy, that fuels 
performance of his regulated song, 
trickles slow after fountain-gush of joy, 
he ceases strumming lyre of Mercury 
and hushes puckish descant of his voice 
that fades in cavernous silence of time. 

The stately pleasure dome of Xanadu, 
his voice projected bright from nothingness, 
may vanish from construction of his spell, 
but steel-framed towers of reflecting glass 
glow bright with eerie twilight of desire 
as gleaming cars on rainbow highways stream. 

Curling around fruit tree of his lost faith, 
he climbs to tree house he built from plywood 
in abandoned field of old rusty cars, 
and lies flat under bright indifferent stars, 
cuddling curved hips and breasts of his guitar 
who kisses him with steel-string lips of hope. 

Asleep beneath full moon on river plain, 
he dreams the star-eyed lion of his heart 
bears him with Garuda wings of desire 
halfway around our pear-shaped spinning globe 
to jungle island where he sees his soulmate 
on Borobudur calling his true name. 


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