My Journey Nowhere Else © Surazeus 2026 10 13 Because the spring sun is the saddest ghost that lingers mute in autumn innocence, I write my name in dust of alleyways to trace path of my journey nowhere else on endless quest to find the beautiful that shimmers in the fractured hearts of strangers. Amazed at flash in swelling clouds of time that imitate vast wings of cherubim which hovers over city maze of fate, I choose to tell lonely strangers I meet I am incarnation of Mercury though no one can see the wings on my feet. Paused on shore of the god-reflecting lake, I look for the Road Not Taken that spans lush meadows and bleak deserts of my heart, but all I see is the High Road of Fate where Orpheus leads blind ghosts of the dead who may arrive in Heaven before me. Though Atossa has painted every wall white with blood of angels to camouflage sorrows of children wounded in harsh wars, she sings strange beauty of our spinning Earth to celebrate this transient life of joy which inspires compassion to bloom in me. Though I doubt conscious entity called God creates this universe with clear design, I love how people gather in their church to sing about strange beauty of this world, and share tales of their struggles to survive to support each other in quest for love. Escaping dirty streets of rain-drenched cities, crowded with people driven from lush vales by greedy barons in castles of hate, my ancestors sailed to America and built new homes in lush Missouri vales where they sang hymns by River of Star Eyes. Startled by ephemeral glow of desire that radiates from bodies of human souls, I plot birth of the new energy field that weaves many nations in one world state, united by respect for liberty that nurtures equal justice for all people. So when I call God on the telephone to ask about why people suffer pain, he chuckles and explains with rainbow beams that he is but some story character invented by kings to keep men afraid, then we meet by the lake of stars to fish.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus joins God, Zeus, Allah, Brahma, and Shangdi fishing by the lake of stars, so he plays guitar and sings while Odin fries fish on the grill.
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