Watchmaker Of Lost Time
© Surazeus
2025 07 15

The fallen tree in the forest of names
sends nurse of sorrow to look after me,
and give me darkness with hands of cold fire
so mushrooms of wisdom sprout from my brain
which spawns from ghostly silence of my heart
wild children who gaze at me with strange eyes.

Awake as the Watchmaker of lost time
in my garden home near Vesuvius,
I whisper spells to counter jinx of faith
that unwinds beautiful vision of Earth
my mind creates from random memories
to forget god of unbearable truth.

Amazed by beauty of the butterfly
who transforms into the lame-footed girl
wearing long white gown of delicate lace,
I accept sweet tangerine of her heart
then shelter her from storms of daily life
while she crafts rainbows into pearls of light.

Minerva caresses his cheek with love
as Sylphus weeps for each raindrop of light
that dissolves with beauty of everything,
then holds his hand as they stroll by the lake
and listen to the crickets in the reeds
sing the names of souls who have lived and died.

Despite strange calculus of honesty
he calculates from bitter words of kings,
sly Sylphus steals fruit from the Tree of Life
and gives them to the girl with moon-black eyes
who bakes them into pies with cinnamon
which hungry people stand in line to buy.

When hopeless horror at the state of life,
that twists our nation with harsh tyranny,
cripples her mind with depression from fear,
Minerva hibernates in hollow cave
to nurture tender passion of her heart
so she can emerge reborn from despair.

Lost in the darkness of the holy woods,
where pictures of gods on trunks of old trees
reflect various aspects of her vast soul,
Minerva spins in tapestry of truth
random events from tragic human lives
so we pretend this world is paradise.

Though the dead seem to live in memories
that flash as visions in our aching hearts,
they all will vanish as dust in the wind
when we too sink in dreamless sleep of death
so, since all memories will disappear,
I treasure them in my still-living mind.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus and Ophelia visit Sylphus and Minerva at their home beneath the rumbling mountain to eat apple pie till the end of the world.

#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism