Riddles Of Her Way

Riddles Of Her Way
© Surazeus
2024 09 07

Tomatoes represent hopes of my heart 
so I sit on wood deck in autumn light 
to chat with the white butterfly of god 
who teaches me how to connect my words 
in spider webs of concepts that reflect 
faces of people I have never met. 

Old woman under the huge willow tree 
explains in deep words pungent as the soil 
that it helps to talk about experiences, 
relating how we have suffered abuse, 
so all our sorrows become butterflies 
that fly away over indifferent fields. 

When I walk along the narrow dirt lane 
that winds among homes on the river shore, 
I see some people I think I might know, 
so I rearrange their faces with souls 
and give them new names they hang on the tree, 
then we sing together around the fire. 

The sandpiper running along the beach 
leaves runes imprinted on the sparkling sand 
so I try to solve Riddles of her Way 
that leads me to cave where the turtles sing 
about the sorrow of the falling bombs 
erasing people from dream of the Earth. 

We tell our stories surviving abuse 
when we wander lost in maze of lost souls 
who clash with each other in blinding fear, 
so the land and the river and the wind 
know what injustice we have overcome, 
which helps us break free from our crippling pain. 

Each book I reach for on library shelf, 
kept secret in archives of human dreams, 
reveals strange scenes that happened in the past 
when people fought with people for control, 
accusing the innocent of evil crimes, 
and killing each other to enter Heaven. 

Trapped in the memory loop of my despair, 
when I got lost in dark shadowy maze, 
arrested and accused by frightened men, 
I laugh at horror of the twisted truth 
to break chains of misfortune with dream spell 
so I escape on wings of Icarus. 

Deceived by the false story I was told, 
that I belong in cold house of abuse, 
I break invisible chains of mute fear 
by shouting my story at empty sky, 
then singing with joy as I walk away, 
to pick tomatoes on the river shore.