Orchid Of Enchanting Truth © Surazeus 2025 11 30 I wear soil of wet earth as skin of hope so I can wonder how small angels fly and tweet in fruit trees of their fierce desire to generate new bodies for gene-souls so they can dance forever on wild wind that thrusts cold blade of fear into my bones. Tall tree that stands forever on high hill suddenly cracks and topples on its side when angry demon roaring in rain clouds hurls strike of lightning with aggressive grasp, so I howl happily at death of god who vanishes in swirl of hungry flames. I cannot find clear pool inside my heart that shimmers bright with weird angelic face who seems to know dark secrets I conceal till I stretch arms and legs to touch the sky but I feel nothing of its gleaming blue, then curl into my body with strange hope. When angry words of shadows in gold trees slice my skin with bitterness of hope I feel sap of hot blood ooze from my eyes so I chew fear in honeysuckle stems till honey drips from carol of my tongue to measure gracious curves of energy. Because the tall pear tree by singing stream remembers my caress at gleam of dawn, I pull aside thick veil of tangled vines to enter cavern deep into my heart where ghost of every person I once knew appears as glimmer in large diamond eyes. Long before my brave descendants of faith invent the door as frame of random dreams, I organize disconcerting events with judicious narrative that presents ceaseless flow of passion within framework assembling puzzle of my comic life. Startled by orchid of enchanting truth that blooms from corpse of my star-fallen god, I bear witness to beauty of this world in silly spells I teach children to sing as they skip laughing on the river shore while I imagine shadow of the door. I cannot wait another million years for god to evolve from the singing fish, so I weave feathers of crows in long cape then dance around the fire in ring of stones to sing of Hero who wears mask of god in battle against demons of despair.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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Sunday, November 30, 2025
Orchid Of Enchanting Truth
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Orpheus assembles four poles in sturdy rectangle in vain attempt to invent the door a million years before humans start to build houses from mud and fear.
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