God We Strive To Be © Surazeus 2026 09 19 Now is the hour to readjust my brain so I perceive electric soul of time that laughs with shimmer of the waterfall about sad suffering of the human soul who kneels and prays to empty sky of blue at sudden sorrow of the swirling snow. I wonder if my mother is alive, safe in walled haven of her wounded heart, because I find words scattered on the floor that she was just arranging with her mind in ever-changing puzzle of false faith defined by strangest questions children ask. Through random splats of red paint on the wall, which accidentally form math formulas our brains employ to calculate how far we wander lost in wilderness of lies, my eyes assert new meaning of old truth by weaving constellations from bright tears. Now that the long-established way of things, that formed foundation of our politics collapses into crimes of haughty pride, we gather in large crowd of shocked surprise to reassert faith in grand principles that govern how we should cooperate. Or else time may unclock our firm beliefs that we held sacred since the dawn of time at slow unravelling of solemn scenes when wingless angels wearing jeweled crowns shall deconstruct assumptions we hold dear to prove that ocean waves know how hearts feel. Dispersed by humble wind of bitter fame, our tight-knit tribe of honest carpenters sails ships of sorrow to the Promised Land where we build empire of the nuclear bomb that causes lizard of the sunless sea to rise as Godzilla, new god of Earth. Each Sunday at flash of the rising sun we gather on the ocean shore of faith to sing hymns to fierce monster of the deep till hungry dinosaur evolves its form to clucking chicken that provides fresh eggs we eat for breakfast with orange juice and toast. If I succeed in program of respect to readjust perception of my brain, I may see face of God in silver clouds that glimmer with divine agility which emanates from every human heart so we become the God we strive to be.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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Saturday, September 19, 2026
God We Strive To Be
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Orpheus wears mask of Jupiter when he appears on stage in the Temple of Apollo to perform tragic tale of his assassination by Pluto to gain power.
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