Mezuzah Of World Dream

Mezuzah Of World Dream
© Surazeus
2026 04 13

Because I am the door through which I pass 
when I transform from my parents to me, 
I stretch my body on conceptual grass 
with luxuriant ennui of the free, 
yet strangers write on tablet of my heart 
their stories that compose my moral chart. 

I stand on dim-lit stage in quaint cafe 
to read my confessions with poet voice 
in spells that trap my spirit in cliche, 
designed to imitate how gods rejoice, 
but I stare in starless void with silent thought, 
then pretend I am the naive robot. 

Though I study figures on Grecian Urn 
with passionate sense of dire urgency, 
I wonder when Fortune will give me turn 
to measure my spiritual vergency 
that indicates focal power of rain 
to refract the Divine Mind through my brain. 

I shall not weep at the clarion call 
that wakes my spirit from tomb of dead words, 
so I paint my dream with blood on church wall 
when angels translate prophecies of birds 
to tragic tale of Tristan and Isolde 
who found world empire on desolate wold. 

When Friedrich rolls away the cryptic stone, 
exposing bones of Jesus in dark tomb, 
I call my father on the telephone 
who tells me secret of maternal womb 
is bound by symbol of the Holy Grail 
from mountain wind that billows my ship sail. 

I sail the Seven Seas in Ship of State 
to colonize the fertile wilderness 
with secret map that helps me navigate 
Scylla and Charybdis from Inverness 
where Rapunzel in tower of star eyes 
trains our daughter to manage psychic spies. 

As I approach Temple of Poseidon, 
that glows on promontory by the sea, 
on my journey from Isle of Avalon, 
Haniel, Angel of Serenity, 
gives me glass tablet of world history 
so I write psalms about the Mystery. 

Haniel bears Mezuzah of World Dream 
while ascending ziggurat steps of faith, 
which she gives to wise Ishtar with esteem 
who sings hymn of the transcendent Star Wraith, 
composed of all our souls woven in light, 
who teaches humans art of spirit flight.