Secret Gate Of Bones

Secret Gate Of Bones
© Surazeus
2025 12 07

White horse that always walks up to my door 
pretends to be the gold-red clouds of dawn 
that no human on Earth can ever see, 
so I encase my soul eternally 
in gleaming amber on trunk of the tree 
that wanders curious to the restless sea. 

When Orpheus opens door of his house 
he gasps surprised to see outside instead 
young woman in black dress with golden hair 
who plays the silver flute of his soul spine 
while ancient stars glitter in her blue eyes 
through melody that entrances lost spies. 

When Greta takes his hand with gentle smile 
they walk together on the river shore 
to enter town through secret gate of bones 
where she reveals through magnifying glass 
angels dancing on taut telephone lines 
who sprinkle apple blossoms on their heads. 

Though natural disasters destroy our homes 
we master stoic acceptance of fate 
by noting that we only lose with grace 
things we create with eager hands of hope 
for all illusions dissipate in words 
designed by compassion of haughty birds. 

My words give birth to children of the lake 
whose bones of ice and blood of flashing snow 
provide bold substance of framed confidence 
for them to play in forest of blind ghosts 
where angels string wires with small flashing lights 
around pine trees to mitigate despair. 

Two strangers face to face on stage of love 
recite sweet liturgy of sacred hours 
that hide world empire of the aching heart 
behind lace veil of ardent honesty, 
Kwan Yin and Jesus startled by desire 
to found new dynasty of generous gods. 

Through frozen doors of radiator hearts 
we stride with indignation of respect 
toward far horizon of conceptual towers 
where people sing hymns of our long-dead god, 
then give each other gifts on winter nights 
to invent meaning for communal lights. 

Because the moon has always been our home 
where angels dwell inside the crystal dome, 
we play sweet music with harps, drums, and flutes 
in transient melodies of feathered faith 
that weave nostalgic matrix from our hearts 
embodied by white horse outside our door.