Not The Way To Heaven © Surazeus 2024 11 03 While trudging nowhere on the way to Heaven, I stop into the old brick downtown church where the frail naked man covered with wounds asks with gravelly voice for a cigarette, so we smoke a while in the silver dawn, contemplating mysteries of life and death. When I stand and zip up my tattered coat, he waves nonchalantly with snarky grin, and bids me safe travels on road of life, so I salute him with casual diffidence, then try to escape adverse circumstance that traps me in cycle of poverty. Against adversity of ancient rules, that force me to stay on strict career paths predefined for me by society, I trudge with numb indifference of hope, inspired by how our world savior survived through nonviolent resistance to evil. Soft evening breeze of desert ambience swirls my hair gently around my blurred eyes as I trudge the highway where devils dance from El Paso to San Antonio, while helicopters chase brave immigrants who try to invade the Garden of Eden. Leaning against elegant pine of faith somewhere on the highway in Arizona on the way from Flagstaff to Albuquerque, I watch the eagle glide in the blue sky and ask her if she knows the way to Heaven, but she knows the way to Elysium. Regressing backward on the way to Heaven, without the wings of Icarus to fly straight, I wake by the highway in Oregon somewhere between Portland and San Francisco, talking to the mountain ghost of lost faith who points the way home to the Promised Land. Staring at my face in the pool of tears near the Sawtooth Mountains in Idaho, I ask the angel with ten thousand eyes why I remember my ancestral lives more than one million years into the future, so she gives me glass of cider to drink. While we are walking hand in hand at dawn, my wife, whose crystal skeleton glows blue with sorrow of humanity, explains to me, though this is not the way to Heaven, this is the way to the Valley of Trees where we can build our own new paradise.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus shows his son Linus on the map where he hitchhiked from Seattle to Los Angeles to Albuquerque, explaining how there is no one way to Heaven.
ReplyDelete