Thursday, November 21, 2024

Shadows Of My Dead Brain

Shadows Of My Dead Brain
© Surazeus
2024 11 21

Charged with understanding how stones contain 
souls of actors in television shows 
who have died while people still watch them act 
long after they have vanished from the world, 
I measure flow of water down the stream 
unbounded by perception of the eye. 

Rivers wear mountains into canyon rifts 
through senseless symbol of the flowing word 
which splits soul of the body from the mind 
that leaves me floating on the ocean thought 
compacted back again in humming stones 
containing souls of people struck by fame. 

While walking home from library at dusk, 
I contemplate secret name of my heart 
carved on the white stone in the river bed, 
then stop abruptly at the edge of time 
when the Great Blue Heron of self-respect 
lands on the road and looks at me with love. 

To confront mortality of my soul 
with exigent clarity in my brain, 
I explore buoyant network of concepts 
between distress of my body and game 
of world civilization people play 
which expands my cellular consciousness. 

When I look deep in mirror of your face 
I see no strident paradox of time 
reversing order atoms operate 
when I find myself awake on this Earth 
again in body my mother creates, 
now programmed to compose dream prophecies. 

If moving water figures consciousness 
imagining spirit of every time 
in all the history of the universe, 
then I am one with every flowing stream 
that rives channels in surface of the Earth 
to carve new mask for God to wear today. 

I feel slow circulation of all seas 
moving around pear-shaped globe of our soul 
in mythic mindstream of death and rebirth 
as children who evolve new forms of being 
from urgent ambition parents express 
when making love before death strikes us down. 

Since we are travelers on the spinning Earth 
we sing in harmony with flowing water 
till our bodies bloom into trees of fruit 
for children to eat sweet dreams of our hearts 
till my words are shadows of my dead brain 
which traps my spirit as I turn to stone. 


1 comment:

  1. Orpheus studies stones containing souls of every famous person in the history of the world to understand why they cry rivers of happiness.

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