Because The Moon Weeps © Surazeus 2024 08 23 If I try to be quiet as the wind, children excited to eat the sour plums will catch fragile wings with greedy hands though I escape page of the fairy book to dance among the daffodils of joy till something strange from the shadow escapes. If I walk slowly in the blinding rain to catch flow of the river with my hand, mothers in the communal kitchen hall will cook fresh apple pies for us to eat while boys train in martial arts with oak wands because the moon weeps for the murdered girl. Young apprentice painter in the stone church considers whole view of the universe depicted by strange images he paints of men in robes who leave their fishing boats to follow the man with the dragon eyes who guards Eden gate with the flaming sword. If I ask the river nymph with calm fear for the sapphire that shimmers in her heart, the humble centaur who teaches me math will give coins to soldiers returned from war whose trembling hands are stained with genocide they cannot wash in the river of tears. If I research stories of noble minds in the Library of Human Memory, Death with silver eyes, wearing black lace gown, will bring me lunch of sandwiches and juice, then sit with me while I compose weird tales of wizards who study nature of things. Old veteran healer in the sea cave investigates the hidden elements which formulate structure of changing forms to manipulate matter with her mind till she reshapes the narrative of truth in words that control how we view the world. If I remember why the caged bird sings while climbing stairway to the Parthenon, my wife will take me to Most Holy Place where she reincarnates in our new child immortal soul of genes woven by stars, for the thirteenth witch is doorway of life. If spirit of my brain is born again in child of liberty whom my wife bears, she will reign as new world messiah sleuth whose coming, foretold by the cosmic herald, will usher in age of the laughing clown who falls in love with Queen of Liberty.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus talks to the river stone to understand why the moon weeps.
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