War-Shattered Eden

War-Shattered Eden
© Surazeus
2026 05 06

If trees keeping telling me the wind loves flight 
that sparks my brain alert to dangerous hope, 
then I may have to walk across the clouds 
and scatter apple seeds on asphalt roads 
to break monopoly of hungry greed 
that writes the rules for how we live each day. 

While children squabble over who remembers 
dream code that opens doors to vaults of wealth, 
I dig my hands in soft soil of the world 
to extract stones of faith with urgent calm, 
then build great castle on high hill of fear 
where I protect my family from despair. 

Amazed at strange glow of the sky at dawn, 
I hold blue conch shell of concerned alarm 
to watch for shadows of demons in woods 
that lurk behind portraits of long-dead gods 
till I see someone floating on the stream, 
and know we cannot return from the dead. 

Stark sunlight of the casual day dispels 
weird magic glow of memories before dawn, 
so I map houses along city streets 
to understand process of civic growth 
that helps me plan state of the urban zone 
that buzzes voices through the telephone. 

Grand temple of feast on the ziggurat 
becomes gold palace of the emperor, 
becomes stone castle of the hungry king, 
becomes city hall of the elected mayor, 
so I walk away from hard haven walls 
that prison me in fear of social change. 

Though I keep searching for the Promised Land 
that shimmers only in dreams of my head, 
I ask Blue Sky to show me no more dreams 
so I can see the real world as it is, 
but hundred million years of fantasy, 
my ancestors dreamed, frame how I see life. 

While walking with shadow of the Third Person 
across the waste land of war-shattered Eden, 
I find colossal statue of some god 
who ruled vast empire sea to shining sea, 
but wind of time erased his glorious name 
and scrubbed away all features of his face. 

I carve my own face on idol of God, 
then plant seeds in soft soil of the world, 
and tend new garden sprouting tender shoots 
that flourishes in waste land of the past 
so giant cities of the ancient world 
all vanish into orchards of fruit trees.