Mindless Business Of Days

Mindless Business Of Days
© Surazeus
2026 03 17

Now that spring is approaching with regret, 
we organize mindless business of days 
with porous unconcern for getting sleep, 
adrift on horizon of innocence 
because seasons of providence we flee 
retaliate for spilled secrets of love 
in terrible incidents we ignore. 

If Death comes home with us before our hearts 
are ready to breathe dust of obstacles, 
we could hide in alcove of singing books 
without desire for what matters the most, 
because I just want to hear your soft voice 
explain why the sky pretends to be blue. 

Alone with my madness stuck in third gear, 
I study the flower with countless eyes 
that tells me love must change every new day 
with gradual expansion of honest scope, 
because bees sing about color of trust, 
authentic with chronic engine of hope. 

I cannot repeat puzzles of my dream 
over and over of variable thoughts 
trapped in books nobody will ever read, 
disguised as the turtle of confidence 
that boldly traverses waste land of faith, 
so I drape my heart in knowledge of self. 

Atrocious fanfare of enchanting trees 
ignores how I stumble over dead books 
with marvelous body of poisoned words, 
so I observe torments of wounded hearts 
wrapped in laughter of children who know 
how to restore discord of fervent faith. 

Elegant madness of panicky rout 
perfumes austerity of lonely souls 
who trade their consecrated memories 
for horror that twists faces of the loved 
to seek gratification through free will 
by choosing to glorify undead gods. 

I want to ask for shelter from the ghost 
who wanders mutely with the noonday crowd 
to find the mansion where no one else lives, 
yet nothing happens till the clock explodes 
with betrayal of language time invents, 
so we speak with one voice of surprised love. 

I build the mansion where we will now live, 
nursing wounded dignity of soft pain, 
so we can find the pattern God will break 
when we sleepwalk together back to Eden 
if we should watch the geyser dance with grace 
as we regurgitate hymns of salvation.