Tuesday, August 19, 2025

Subtle Winds Of Memory

Subtle Winds Of Memory
© Surazeus
2025 08 19

Though subtle winds of Memory sweep the lyre 
with rays of wisdom luminating truth, 
I walk from exile of neglected faith 
to bear the quivering beams of rectitude 
that paint the flowers of entangled thoughts 
with jeweled joy I buy through suffering. 

Though morning light expands its timeless glow 
on all that answers shimmer of its truth, 
I wander lost in tangled woods of doubt 
to find bright crystal of eternal hope 
that fractures when I grasp its fragile beam 
which animates anew my wayward heart. 

Though I attempt to map the wilderness, 
composed from swirl of wild ambitious sands, 
I hope with eager consciousness of cause 
to quote old universal laws of time 
how Reason turns her dazzled eye away 
from rapturous beauty of this changing world. 

Though death chains pinions of my wildest thought 
to set the cosmic laws of fate at naught, 
I measure fantasy of Earth we love 
with strictest eye of art forged from starlight 
to swirl ethereal light of wordless souls 
with radiant mystery of poetic charm. 

Though I glide over Earth on zephyr wing 
to conjure fruit trees from greed-wasted soil, 
I land in broad elm, empress of vast hills, 
my spirit surfeited with fancy state 
recorded in sly idyls of our greener age 
to live with instinct in survival mode. 

Though first-born pulse moving in my mind 
seems to narrow path of fortune I choose, 
I dance in lonely vales of fertile faith, 
unsullied by loud engine roar of cars, 
to make Arcadia in my secret glade 
beneath the star-crowned cliff of honesty. 

Though garish guardians of the galaxy 
map fabled valleys on Elysian isles, 
I open gates of Eden for the world 
to visit vast amusement park of God 
who teaches us to dial tone of the spheres 
where we play happy games with seraph wings. 

Home of my childhood in small Texas town 
burned down at strike of lightning in fierce storm, 
so I lie unknown in lush empty lot 
to ponder sweetness of this painful life, 
when Memory sweeps electric strings of love 
that vibrate radiant on lyre of my heart. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus tries to record the eerie melodies of fate that vibrate from subtle winds of Memory when he strums strings of the cordial lyre of truth.

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