New Temple Of Pegasus © Surazeus 2024 06 13 When words collapse in shadows of my thoughts I search for Sibylla in golden cage who asks me to help save Jerusalem by building new Temple of Pegasus, but as we ride across the Rainbow Bridge her crystal tower crumbles into sand. As secret grandson of Remus the Shy, I am the werewolf everybody loves, so I sit with Juturna by her well and sing clever tales in Saturnian verse while women stand in line with water jars and gossip about the boy on the bridge. Silent in darkness of truth before dawn, I touch the stillness I can never touch till ghosts of all the mothers of my mothers, back thirty thousand years, teach me to sing with honest voice of the bottomless sea that shimmers as the blood cells in my veins. While people of today work at their jobs, plotting revolution in how they spend money on treasures found in ancient caves, I study the silver spoon in my hand which I received from sweet Armenian queen who calls my name for seven hundred years. In uncracked mirror shining on the wall I see face of Thamar gaze back at me, so I go swimming in the Caspian Sea where my ancestors lived in wagon trains forty thousand years of the last ice age, forever searching for the Promised Land. Adventists gather in the river park in Oregon in nineteen sixty-eight to sing hymns of worship to the Dream Ghost who sits on throne of light in apple grove and gives me quill to compose chronicle that details how he builds world empire state. Ancient empires that collapsed long ago still glow in hearts of their lost citizens who build on ruins of sweet memories global empire based on their fruitful faith when the cosmic herald maps their journey home to base new temple on the hill of skulls. The Scepter of Zambor, which I still hide behind the old guitar I used to play, vibrates with wordless energy of hope to defend this land where I make my home against invading hordes of angry men lead by the monarch hiding in my heart.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus tries to find the monarch hiding in his heart but finds Ophelia floating in the river.
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