Thirteenth Muse of America © Surazeus 2024 08 09 Now that seeds of light the Serpent designs have sprouted from soil of this evening land where my Puritan ancestors of the Book planted them with prayers in dark raven woods four hundred years ago, my heart perceives strange beauty in song of the river flow. Eyes blue-green as the sea after a storm, and gowned in black dress woven from moonlight, Anne Bradstreet wanders in wild shadowed woods, attempting to hide her tattered angel wings beneath long cloak drenched in dew from tall ferns, while she chants spells she hears river stones sing. Longing to stroll in mist of Salcey Forest, where sparkling bluebells shimmer among oaks, Anne pauses by broad Quinobequin River, and wonders if light-hearted fairies fly in these strange woods so far across the sea, and weeps at sharp ache in her throbbing heart. After sailing in fragile ship of hope across wild sea of soul-transforming waves, Anne catches gusts of wind from river flow, as hungry men wring bread from stocks and stones, with faith of Icarus that she can fly high enough to find Heaven in the clouds. Before my soul becomes trapped in cold chapel that imprisons believers with strict rules, I journey west to find the Promised Land in covered wagon on long signless road past fruit trees from seeds sewn by Mercury till I arrive in hills of Idaho. As son of Cain I wander ever west with Lamp of Lucifer bright in my hand ten thousand years beyond the Holy Land, Jerusalem through Rome to London Town, then to Atlantis where Onatah reigns as our noble Goddess of Liberty. With confidence of the brave pioneer I assure myself that I have escaped hellish atmosphere of New England woods, but grim spirit of the Puritan Seer still burns bright in cabin hearth of my heart, guiding my journey across the waste land. With raven-feather quill of Anne Bradstreet, my tenth great-grandmother from Merry England, I write magic spells in Saturnian verse as the Thirteenth Muse of America to channel weird spirit of Melusine, my Serpent Mother who rules Avalon.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus plays lyre of Mercury while Anne Bradstreet recites poetry in misty forest of the evening land.
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