Weird Hour Of Storms

Weird Hour Of Storms
© Surazeus
2025 05 03

Not since weird hour of storms across the plains, 
that crack dark mirror of the humble soul, 
have angels known the honesty of fear 
when souls of humans rage wild as the wolf 
then float on rivers with lithe otter grace 
till we remember how the fruit has grown. 

Thus we shall meet beneath the twisted tree 
at hour when seven moons of death appear 
to shine with beauteous bounty of respect 
though we are hungry for divine despair 
that we express through songs of ocean waves 
that still remind us we have secret names. 

Confounded by swift gallop of the horse, 
that brings with sudden swirl of subtle breeze 
mysterious angst of love borne from the deep, 
we share our shocking tales of puzzling grace 
disbursed by brightly shining ghosts of time 
who seem to know where we conceal our bones. 

From darkness blossom spirits of the saved 
who bear abstractions writhing in their hearts 
to lurk with urgent care in shadowed woods 
with special luminance of ardent faith 
which lights our journey to the Promised Land 
as if we know how long weird stars may shine. 

Flesh buzzing with electric energy 
on laughing clouds excluding rancid faith, 
we rise from bubbling lake of happy slime 
to share experience mushroom-fueled with love 
through boundless sorrow to drink soul of light 
since we know freedom of tree-shivered hills. 

Awake ten million years of dreamless hope 
to taste each drop of rain from heaven hurled, 
we help each other gather nuts and eggs 
from generous bounty of contorted soil 
while wading knee-deep in delicious swamp 
to catch lithe serpent of aggressive death. 

We ask no questions of the mossy stone 
that has not moved in twenty million years 
except to meditate on mountain cliff 
with stoic calm displayed by twisted oaks 
that curl from edge of infinite disgrace 
with sterile promise that our souls can fly. 

White egrets gather shrieking clever jokes 
in swollen canopy of bitter trees 
to prove with formulas framed by desire 
that we are angels fallen from storm clouds, 
so we rise up on trembling legs of faith 
and stride forth from the wilderness of song.