My Unpossessed Heart

My Unpossessed Heart
© Surazeus
2025 03 26

Beyond vast picture of painted landscapes 
I see uncertain whiteness of pure depths 
reflecting ugly beauty of our world 
that frames my face as god in glowing clouds, 
so I rebuke that darkness in the sea 
that molded me from passion to fly free. 

The whiteness in gloomy depths of my heart 
contains the ancient truth I hope to see, 
but one teardrop from Heaven falling far 
erases vision of the unseen world, 
so I walk backward on the signless road 
that everyone wants to name for their god. 

The fragmentary whiteness of my world 
encloses me in meadow of lush grass, 
so I stand breathing spirit of the sky 
with motionless mind of the spinning globe 
to feel how borders limit our landscapes 
to scope of truth in what our eyes perceive. 

The people in the village by the sea, 
who support my poor family with calm care, 
are swept into white depths by sudden storm 
that hurls enormous waves of arrogance 
with mute indifference of lightning-flashed wind 
so not even their secret names remain. 

The whiteness of the world offers no gifts 
more than I would need to live each day 
while tending apple trees by the blind lake 
surrounded by strange darkness of the wind 
that scatters leaves across my fenceless yard 
on which I write these poems I never sing. 

Nothing that exists in material form 
transcends sweet whiteness of the cheerful dawn 
beyond what spirit of the sky provides, 
though faceless god whom everyone adores 
never replies to my sincerest prayers 
except that Nature keeps blooming with life. 

Every land where my ancestors have lived 
across ten thousand miles of their long road 
has never belonged to them, though they lie 
buried in its soil so their bones provide 
lattice of honesty that forms landscapes 
where I travel with my unpossessed heart. 

We journey west to find home of the sun 
ten thousand years over mountains and seas, 
but find the Earth is round and never ends, 
so I stop on rugged coast of the world 
and give my alien spirit to this land 
which sings my ballads long after I die.