First Mother Of Our Soul
© Surazeus
2026 04 30

Why am I me and no one else alive,
trapped in the fragile nutshell of my head,
entangled in strange memories of my mind
from striving to survive till I am dead?
Every human alive on Planet Earth
has been born from First Mother of our soul.

All humans of the world alive with hope
share universal frame of reference
that underlies state of religious tales
with common themes of heroic success.
Though I sometimes feel alone in my head
I feel connected to each soul on Earth.

I feel prime soul of Ishtar in my heart
when she gathered us all in temple hall
to nurture our spirits with feast of faith
then sang creation of the universe.
Her vision of how our world operates
still programs how I perceive our life on Earth.

Bright goddess who created stars of truth
stands before congregation of the lost
and tells us how our world was born from fire,
then gives advice on how to live life well.
Our souls are fragments of her primal soul
as shards of her one puzzle mirror mind.

Since Death will dissolve me in the end
and scatter atoms of my body far
as bright unconscious sparkles of starlight,
I sing the conscious vision of my mind.
For I am me alone in all the world,
one temporary flame of conscious faith.

I wonder why, out of eight billion souls
alive this hour on globe of rain and dirt,
I am conscious only of my own self,
immortal mind in mortal shell of flesh.
When Ishtar wakes in visions of my heart
I play my role in fortune of my fate.

Since each new choice I make defines my fate,
I hesitate at crossroads of each change
to analyze effects of active cause
because I want to create, not destroy.
I compose scripture that maps my life goal
to create conscious souls before I die.

Since no traveler has ever returned
from the undiscovered country of death,
I have no dread of what comes after life
for I will cease to exist for all time.
With courage I throw burdens to the wind
to work great enterprises till I die.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/04/…

Orpheus travels all around the world, as Pope of Astarianity, singing hymns of praise to Ishtar, mother of all religions of the world.

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