Wordless Wind Of Why
© Surazeus
2026 09 18

To invest in emotional regrowth
when flocks of ravens search for tree of faith,
I follow river-flow of innocence
to understand abandonment by wind
each morning I cross vast liminal space
to hide my soul with temporary face.

To listen to the dreams of birds at dawn
before sunlight reveals grave of my heart,
I ponder why I wanted to be born
through brave attention of romantic hope
that drives our bodies to generate life
in struggle to transcend mute nothingness.

To live as reaper and sower of truth
by cultivating myths from dreams of gods,
I pray through clumsy strife against despair
to laugh and cry through cycle of rebirth
till I float blind in grief of pleasant joy
that morphs my body to symbol of faith.

To swell beyond limits of time and space
on frantic wings of fierce angelic lust,
I build small church of stone on river shore
to shelter homeless refugees from war
who gather for the Feast of Apple Hope
in shining presence of the eyeless sun.

To analyze the fall of Icarus
who wears the broken mask of Lucifer,
I calculate new route through maze of Hell
to gather treasures from tombs of dead gods
which I deliver to the Queen of Life
who reigns on ziggurat of singing skulls.

To sail away from hills of Ithaca
long after endless journey to my home,
I study constellations of the heart
providing safe road to the Promised Land
where old bearded man by the Burning Bush
insists Jehovah speaks in flames of awe.

To redesign view of our universe
that represents its true reality,
we hang out in lush field of confused ghosts
with pamphlets that explain the Afterlife
because our conscious sense of Special Self
will vanish in the wordless wind of why.

To become one with Infinite Eye of Light
that beams through every atom of my soul,
I swim in sea of demons to explore
uncanny wisdom of subconscious realms
where all my ancestors dream in my cells
so I remember evolving through love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/09/…

Orpheus captures the wordless wind of why in the leather bag of eagerness so he can sail the wine-dark sea to Elysium where Ophelia bakes apple pies.

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