Eye Of Lost Time
© Surazeus
2025 01 31

To see whole oceans in one water drop
while on his journey of authority,
Feraldus picks spot by the lake to stop
and cup water with curiosity,
but all he perceives in eye of lost time
is dream of angels evolving from slime.

Arriving at his cottage by the elm,
where his rational wife Savia bakes pies,
Feraldus studies nature of the helm
that sailors spin to navigate the skies,
then daydreams of his childhood as soft chimes
of freedom ring for revolutionary times.

Determined to measure state of the mind
reflected in mirror of the Self Pool,
Feraldus strides in boots Bacchus designed
for exploring basement of the seer school
where demons haunt the hearts of lonely souls
who spend all afternoon outlining goals.

Watching her husband tramp in fields of wheat,
Savia calculates what our nation needs
to overcome mute anguish of defeat
is how the country farmer sows hope seeds,
based on conceptual tropes of social roles
when lovers dance around flowered maypoles.

While eating apple pie and mint ice cream,
Feraldus ponders strange state of the land.
"Castles once protected the royal dream
where people lived under one guiding hand,
but cannons destroy walls of paradise
so now failed kings must be the sacrifice."

Hundreds of people escaping from war
when their castle is smashed by cannon balls,
crowd hungry and frightened around their door,
so they welcome refugees in safe halls,
and organize how they work on the farm,
who sing praises of Savia for her charm.

Kneeling before children on the lake shore,
Feraldus cups dirt in his hands and grins.
"We are but dust and shadow, Horace sang,
but we see the world in one grain of sand,
Blake countered, for we are atoms of light
swerving in the void on our spirit flight."

When Angel of Death in long black robe
appears from flash of lightning on the hill,
Savia runs and finds Feraldus dead,
struck in the heart by arrow of free will,
so she buries him under the pear tree
where his atoms become crows who fly free.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/01/…

Orpheus lays flowers on the grave of Feraldus as he chants "pulvis et umbra sumus" while scattering pear seeds on the ground.

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