Ocean Of Her Words
© Surazeus
2026 09 11

The youthfully ancient face of my mother
is the face of the land where I have dwelled
millions of years in valley of her heart
while climbing high to mountain of her head
because her eyes are the moon and the sun
and her mouth is the ocean of her words.

With numberless children of fire-burned homes
I walk along endless road of her legs
and pluck ripe fruit from long trees of her arms
while following wide river of her tears
which nurtures bold wheat blooming from her breast
till we swim deep in ocean of her words.

Some people stay in the land of their birth
one hundred thousand years of solitude,
building homes on ruins of their homes,
because our mother is face of the land
that smiles with thunder and frowns with sunlight
to hide their dreams from ocean of her words.

Some people walk the signless road of hope
far east to find where the bright sun is born,
then west to find where the drowning sun dies,
across the land from sea to shining sea
through orchards of fruit and waste lands of thirst
to sail across vast ocean of her words.

In some lives I live alone in the woods
where I invent language from songs of birds,
and other lives I gather gangs of men
in armies which I use to build empires,
but always I have children, then I die,
that sink downward in ocean of her words.

In this life I am the wandering jester
who maps whole history of humanity
in epic tales of curious adventure
to conjure virtual model of our world,
casting spells of dreams in the Metaverse
that shimmers runes in ocean of her words.

Rain drenches ruins of my childhood home
that vanishes in restless wind of nevertime
so I build new home by the River Styx
then play the Lyre of Mercury and sing
confounding riddles of the antihero
who leads lost souls to ocean of her words.

My mother is always alive in me
because she is the land that nurtures me,
so I dance wild with innocent desire
to transcend sorrow with pure ecstasy
through shocking joy of psalm about how death
dissolves my soul in ocean of her words.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/09/…

Orpheus finds his great-grandmother Tethys on the beach so he gives her fish that she roasts on the fire so everyone can eat as he sings about the storm god who loves us.

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