Faceless Pool Of Love

Faceless Pool Of Love
© Surazeus
2025 04 08

If truth removes the longing from my clay 
I might feel shimmering wings arched overhead, 
and know this is the last season of life 
while waiting for the signal from the world 
to leave my anger crawling in the dust 
when I return from stark unfinished lands. 

No guardian angel at the gate of faith 
remains to watch me leave lost paradise, 
though I take seeds from sweet apples I stole 
to start new garden on the river shore 
where I will invent concept of the door 
that divides pleasure from horror of death. 

While standing still on gateless shore of time, 
I realize with surprise of obviousness 
that water always flows beyond the scope 
my eyes record with breath of glowing clouds 
till hope transforms into body of flesh 
which I employ to explore this strange world. 

She whispers softly in my sudden ear 
of shadows that flee back up to the sky 
with sharp instinct of animal desire 
which animates our passionate embrace 
to generate new bodies from our hearts 
who bear our souls beyond eternity. 

More terror-stricken than blossoming trees, 
she teaches me the light of absolutes 
which shimmer deep in liquid of her eyes 
to reveal sacred wisdom of godless skies 
though we sense someone always watching us 
whose weird voice howls at us in windy rain. 

My longing stabs my heart with thorny faith, 
so I speak the first word my heart invents 
to tell her, "You" are the one I love most, 
though all my words blow away in bleak wind 
that pushes us helplessly toward blank fate, 
so we hold hands to bind our souls with love. 

Weaving vines among trees in circled fence, 
we enclose our hearts in safe garden space 
to hide from monsters lurking in dark woods, 
because her face glows bright with eyes of light 
when she gives me berries and nuts to eat 
as we lounge by the faceless pool of love. 

The tree that blooms from heart of anguished hope 
declares itself with endless voice of wind 
to be the sacred oracle of love 
whose fruit reveals the meaning of desire 
as children spring from passion of our kiss 
to populate this world with warring tribes.