God In Temporary Form © Surazeus 2026 01 13 Untethered from strange taste of ancient fruit when I hang from my tail in Tree of Life, I descend to Earth on angelic wings to fly upright in surging waves of change where I learn to walk on feet of firm faith because I see my face glow in bright clouds. Faint twang of words I speak with holy breath vibrates through frame of flesh that binds my soul with writhing beams of moonlight on dark lake, still weightless on soft undulating waves ten thousand years after I wake from dream through evolution as I become god. I wonder what pain of my body means that pulses bold with fierce intent to grasp elusive ghost of flashing energy that fills my mind with sudden state of being through clear insight at what my brain perceives so I speak word that creates why I am. Gold cloud of bees hum soft with anxious hope from potent passion of hungry desire at shock of insight that strikes at my heart as perfect omen that frames puzzling thoughts encased in vision of my crafting act which I perform with gesture of good faith. Enclosed by limited bounds of my being, my spirit shivers at sharp gust of breath that fills my frame with vast industrial cold, assumed when arrogant ghost in my breast asserts aggressive need to progress forth against harsh wind that beats against my face. Ten million years I spiral into being by speaking words my brain invents to mean conceptual objects I perceive as real when I point to fear-tangled limbs of hope and say "Tree" as I hold three fingers up, true shelter of trust where we hold our tryst. With each word I invent my brain creates complex landscape of plants and animals who roam among trees by rivers in vales between mountains where clouds drench us in rain that fills our bodies with intense desire to hold each other with passionate love. I crawl from womb of mother in the cave ten thousand generations to transcend each mortal body as immortal genes transforming to wingless angel from ape by singing hymns to idol of the man who first plays god in temporary form.
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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Tuesday, January 13, 2026
God In Temporary Form
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Orpheus remembers when his mother taught him how to sing as they gathered eggs on the ocean beach.
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