Abandoned Ghosts Of Time

Abandoned Ghosts Of Time
© Surazeus
2025 09 21

Soft wind that ripples on the meadow pond 
cares nothing for the strife of politics, 
so I become the grass that drinks the rain 
and sings in harmony with cheerful birds, 
though every tweet is territorial, 
declaring how this space of light is mine. 

The crow that flaps her dark angelic wings 
swoops over meadow pond of silent faith, 
evanescent shape almost vanishing 
in gray shadow of undulating clouds, 
which sparks strange memory from my childhood 
when I would wait for Jesus to return. 

The black-cloaked preacher in the circus tent 
declares Jesus, king of the whole world, 
will soon return in blaze of flaming clouds 
as he descends on crystal wings of fire, 
so I sit by the meadow pond all day 
staring at gray clouds that silently swirl. 

So I decide the crow with Stygian wings, 
as devil that soars from the hand of Christ, 
presents itself as symbol of my heart 
that promises salvation of respect 
refracted through keen mind of intellect 
to calculate state of reality. 

Since no one hears in wilderness of ghosts 
dire prophecy that Cassandra proclaims, 
which echoes warning of social collapse, 
I sit on lush shore of the meadow pond 
to strum the lyre of Mercury and sing 
how no one descends from the empty sky. 

Though I sit alone by the meadow pond, 
surrounded by abandoned ghosts of time 
who ask me to give them faces and names, 
I feel divine energy of God glow 
bright in the boundless hollow of my heart 
as planet that now teems with conscious souls. 

I feel soul of messiah in my heart 
emanate beauty of the cosmic mind, 
so I transcend framed ideologies 
to merge all warring religions on Earth 
in one universal faith of mankind 
that unites opposing doctrines in myth. 

I row wood boat across the meadow pond 
and listen to wordless voice of the wind 
congregate all abandoned ghosts of time 
in global community of the lost 
who transform deserts into paradise 
by planting seeds of fruit trees in our graves.