Alone On Crowded Earth © Surazeus 2024 08 15 When the tree gives me the book of its faith by throwing rotten fruit at my frail head, I cup river water in my two hands and spill tears of hope to nourish its roots, yet children dance around her on the hill and mock birds who keep secret how she feels. When the snake asks me why I am not real by cracking dream stones open to reveal true face of God that hides inside our hearts, I ask her if she can weave me new wings so we can fly together to the stars that glitter on waves in the sea-shore cave. When the shadow in the sea smiles at me with hunger to consume flame of my soul, I break chains of resentment from old grudges to free myself from misery of the past so I can walk away from cage of fear that I built with anguish of my own hands. When the horse wants me to run with the wind beyond the darkest valley of our fear to feel our hearts beat wild with ache of love, I escape crowded house of cruel ambition to find solitude in the mountain vale where no one but the wind can share my pain. When the cloud glows with arrogant disdain for how mountains assert absence of time, I free my heart from passionate desire to breathe deeply cleansing air of the hour since Nature is indifferent to my being though my soul pulses with its energy. When the billion-year-old stone by the lake glares at me with silent hostility, I decide with calm laughter of the breeze that I do not need anyone to love me, for I am love itself in human form wandering on the signless road I create. When the house with many doors arbitrates conflicts between me and people I trust by sending deer to graze grass of my yard, I exist stage from Theater of Fame to play guitar in town park of lost souls and sing about wingless angel of Earth. When the sun weaves my body from light beams, which nurtures neural network of my brain to conjure virtual model of the world, I meditate alone on crowded Earth to knit eight billion voices in one song that vibrates through ever-flowing wind.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus wanders in forest of lost souls and sings alone on crowded Earth with joy of its energy.
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