When I Was Young © Surazeus 2024 10 08 When I was young I thought mountains were gods asleep after making love to create wingless angels who sing among fruit trees with reverent awe for how the rain transforms mud to flowers that blossom from our brains, but now I know they are starships from Heaven. When I was young I snuck in theaters to watch celestial beings make snarky quips about the demon hiding in the Bible while chasing divine butterfly of love in mirror funhouse at amusement parks, but now I map the Cavern of Illusions. When I was young I walked the signless road across the waste land with Tiresias to find the tomb where corpse of Jesus rots so I can ask the skull of Hamlet why beautiful young women are always killed, but now I live with Sri Dewi, my wife. When I was young I visited the moon where she always sat by the waterfall to chat about the secret of rebirth till she was kidnapped by the castle king who burned her at the stake as a dream witch, but now I weep for her face in the pool. When I was young I rode the city bus to walk streets of Seattle in green rain on sacred quest to find the Holy Grail that shimmers in hands of the lonely girl who lives on the other side of the globe, but now I eat meals she prepares for me. When I was young I hitchhiked on the road across the land from sea to shining sea to play guitar of Mercury and sing long epic ballads no one listens to while office clerks chase leprechauns for gold, but now I weave Easter baskets and hum. When I was young I mapped world history from reign of Ishtar on the pyramid through ten thousand years of brutal warfare while riding horses to the Promised Land to colonize fertile lands for my God, but now I socialize on the Internet. When I was young I ate purple mushrooms that ravens brought me from the cave of ghosts who lead me through Museum of the Mind where I wandered lost in world maze of myths past idol of each soul who ever lives, but now I write love letters to the dead.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus shares memories of his youth with sparrows, deer, and squirrels that hang out in the front yard of his home in Elysium.
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