Slow Spin Of Earth © Surazeus 2026 07 27 When shapeless shadow of the mindless sun reveals eternal light inside my cells, my heart is tricked to think my soul is real beyond hot emanation of my brain, but I float blissfully in surging waves and let soft tide of time dissolve my pride. I try to avoid unfortunate role as king of ghosts when sunset light glows pink through tangled lattice of tree limbs, but grief clings joyfully to pulsing heart of faith that binds my body to slow spin of Earth, even if I want to harvest crow wings. I am not absence of anything else except my presence in the field of faith, so air becomes my essence when I breathe space where my electric soul has flowed with vibrant passion to become myself as I keep moving through currents of change. With map of the city I left behind wrapped around rotten sorrow of my heart, I search for the house with one thousand doors on the quiet road in the country town where I lived when I was thirteen years old to find the runes I carved on the glass moon. The labyrinth that encompasses our world has but one gate for every human being, so I search every house where I once lived to find my special key forged from my tongue in hand of the nameless girl I still love who gives it to me then goes back to work. After I open dream gate of my fate, I hesitate at threshold of the unknown, then return to the house where she bakes bread, bringing wood and apples for the hearth, but when she kisses me with secret love I transform into idol of her myth. I climb eternal stairway of coiled truth that spirals from core of the multiverse while peeling orange of psychic synergy to taste sweet sorrow of relentless joy that sparks dreams of my ancestors to glow with visions of survival I replay. Now that I have almost finished the race to climb the highest mountain of respect, I dance on still point of the universe till I become the spinning world of change as my flesh frame disperses into words that flash awake as children of my heart.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Translate
Monday, July 27, 2026
Slow Spin Of Earth
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Orpheus wanders through the museum of faceless heroes to understand what motivates average people to create beautiful art from fear of death.
ReplyDelete