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.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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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