Accidents Of Natural Change

Accidents Of Natural Change
© Surazeus
2024 12 10

With the walking cane made of dragon bone 
I will traverse the mountain of the world 
to stand beside the ancient twisted tree 
and feel wild clouds burning sorrow from me, 
but back home by the hearth the cat lies curled 
as I explore dark lands of dreams alone. 

When I am on the signless road of hope 
somewhere far beyond the last city zone 
I will gaze into the bright pool at me feet 
and ask ghost of my father why cold sleet 
stings my heart with knowledge of the star stone 
that leads me ever higher up the slope. 

While we are accidents of natural change, 
evolving by chance from sparkles of light 
that float with careless passion in the sea, 
I push against the wind of what is free 
to test bound limitations of the right 
that leaves me laughing on the Texas range. 

Though darkness hovers over me with wings 
reflecting all that happens on the Earth, 
I choose to not participate in games 
men fight for power of celestial names, 
imagined puzzle of the fractured worth 
richer than wisdom of lost magic rings. 

Desire for pleasure hidden in wet soil 
still motivates my tending fields of flowers, 
concealing silent rage in songs of birds 
who steal fruit seeds arranged as haughty words 
so I decide to build ten thousand towers 
which imitate code from genetic coil. 

Time would leave me stranded on the peak 
of every mountain I have dared to climb 
since heart-broken witch on the radio 
waits for me on her palace patio, 
so I emerge from her pool with sweet lime 
that proves I am the one she wants to seek. 

The wood stork at the Homosassa Springs 
asks me if I remember scriptural truth 
regarding laws for how the king behaves, 
so I tour nightclubs in huge ocean caves, 
performing shows as sly messiah sleuth 
guarded by the concept of angel wings. 

Living in forest of ten thousand trees, 
I find the special mask of fate you wore 
beneath the giant fractured skull of god, 
which explains why I joined the justice squad, 
but now I work at the small-town book store 
recording wrong lyrics for rhapsodies.