Taste Sorrow Of The Moon © Surazeus 2026 07 18 If I stand outside in hot evening rain I can almost taste sorrow of the moon sweet as honey on peanut-buttered toast, but when gods of ancient societies arrive with tablets and bottles of wine, we dance all night to celebrate true love. I hear soft voice of sorrow in gray mist when young Theneva, pregnant with disgrace, arrives on boat of wisdom on my shore, so I give shelter to the wounded girl whose father hurled her from cliff of despair then cast her adrift on indifferent seas. How far across the swirling sea of hope must I sail bravely in frail ship of faith to find lost homeland of lush Ithaca where prim Penelope in ribboned gown weaves tapestry depicting noble deeds of warriors fighting for security. All questions about nature of this world have compiled code of wisdom in fraught verse recording ancient wisdom of wise fools who proffered answers about how things are, so I lounge mindlessly on my back porch, plucking rusty strings on my old guitar. Though Achilles, gone mad with grief of loss, destroyed the city full of families to rescue Helen from towers of love, Odysseus sailed against obsessive hate past obstacles of fear and bitter pride to restore the city where his wife rules. With baskets on arms of companionship, we gather strawberries, mushrooms, and eggs, along with lavender and eglantine, from sun-drenched meadows of sweet innocence, till we find Theneva wounded on grass, so we bear her to cave of healing care. Now that I know name of that faceless ghost who haunts my backyard after the sun sets, I translate voice of thunder in wild rain to analyze state of the human mind processing global conflicts with old myths that celebrate the hero who goes home. Though we seem lost in rugged hills of mist, wise Wotadinus raises wand of truth and calls our names so we may follow close attentive journey of his earnest quest to build safe home with walls of honest stone where sweet Theneva may tend apple trees.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Translate
Saturday, July 18, 2026
Taste Sorrow Of The Moon
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Orpheus writes tale of Theneva on parchment with angel blood as ink as she dictates story of her journey to found the holy city of Glasgow.
ReplyDelete