Watchmaker Of Lost Time

Watchmaker Of Lost Time
© Surazeus
2025 07 15

The fallen tree in the forest of names 
sends nurse of sorrow to look after me, 
and give me darkness with hands of cold fire 
so mushrooms of wisdom sprout from my brain 
which spawns from ghostly silence of my heart 
wild children who gaze at me with strange eyes. 

Awake as the Watchmaker of lost time 
in my garden home near Vesuvius, 
I whisper spells to counter jinx of faith 
that unwinds beautiful vision of Earth 
my mind creates from random memories 
to forget god of unbearable truth. 

Amazed by beauty of the butterfly 
who transforms into the lame-footed girl 
wearing long white gown of delicate lace, 
I accept sweet tangerine of her heart 
then shelter her from storms of daily life 
while she crafts rainbows into pearls of light. 

Minerva caresses his cheek with love 
as Sylphus weeps for each raindrop of light 
that dissolves with beauty of everything, 
then holds his hand as they stroll by the lake 
and listen to the crickets in the reeds 
sing the names of souls who have lived and died. 

Despite strange calculus of honesty 
he calculates from bitter words of kings, 
sly Sylphus steals fruit from the Tree of Life 
and gives them to the girl with moon-black eyes 
who bakes them into pies with cinnamon 
which hungry people stand in line to buy. 

When hopeless horror at the state of life, 
that twists our nation with harsh tyranny, 
cripples her mind with depression from fear, 
Minerva hibernates in hollow cave 
to nurture tender passion of her heart 
so she can emerge reborn from despair. 

Lost in the darkness of the holy woods, 
where pictures of gods on trunks of old trees 
reflect various aspects of her vast soul, 
Minerva spins in tapestry of truth 
random events from tragic human lives 
so we pretend this world is paradise. 

Though the dead seem to live in memories 
that flash as visions in our aching hearts, 
they all will vanish as dust in the wind 
when we too sink in dreamless sleep of death 
so, since all memories will disappear, 
I treasure them in my still-living mind.