Window Of The Sky © Surazeus 2024 07 06 I love soft laughter of the waterfall that only children in the wild woods hear, yet in strange mirror glow of the glass hall sorrow stalks the old folks with hearts of fear who search for salvation of the gold eye that watches us from window of the sky. If thought-whispering leaves of apple trees echo crowded streets of our neighborhood I could seek comfort in the drowsy breeze that shrouds our world with twilight of the good so when we hide our voices in the ground we share the secret key of what we found. When our fears rise in the sparrowy air with voices of the long-forgotten dead we should try to name them as if we care about the ritual feast of wine and bread designed by the girl on the ocean cliff who alone knows where all the angels live. We lie without shoes in our lonely boat which glides on river flow of humble faith to visit the dead where their wood masks float in swirling glitter from soul of the wraith who guards our country with the rolling stone while I play sad tunes on the flute of bone. Driving along the sea, I cultivate passion of my heart where the weird sun gleams till I stand weary before the locked gate with nothing in my hands but useless dreams that help me measure vastness of the sea on empty surface that frames what I see. Swelling into the huge blackness of time, my heart conceals eternity of love with secret image of the psychic crime which I commit in shadow of the cave while writing love letters with ink of blood since I may not survive conceptual flood. I feel essential spark of honesty blaze bright from subconscious core of my being with radiantly calm peace of tragedy so idol of my unself spreads each wing composed of spirits in the lighthouse beam which proves my life is more than fevered dream. This riddle I sing with heart-aching tune is secret that only you and I share so we embrace in shelter of the moon while everyone else wanders in despair because no one understands our dream code that guides us safely on the dangerous road.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus floats on angel wings through glowing window of the sky to understand our dream code.
ReplyDelete