Our Mortality
© Surazeus
2025 03 14

Though stars shine on the stretch of snowy road
which I follow to the ends of the Earth,
I savor strange miracle of being alive
as conscious clump of random particles
that blink bright as the lonely traffic light
without concern for our mortality.

Though I smell odor of the evening rain
that opens portal to another world,
I walk through shadow of the humming oak
to gather acorns from the dusty road
so I can can hear people in the church sing
without concern for our mortality.

Though I walk backward up the abstract stairs
to analyze their function without form,
I understand new symbol of lost faith
contained in tulips in the fractured vase
which invade sorrow with beauty of pain
without concern for our mortality.

Though leaves float proudly on the flowing stream
with subtle lightness of the careful breeze,
I ask the mushroom toad with rainbow eyes
where all my faceless relatives have gone
who vanished at the screaming flash of dawn
without concern for our mortality.

Though time refracts in dreamless eyes of hope
delinquent signal of my pulsing soul,
I borrow naked innocence from Death,
pretending to be cloud in clumsy form
caught in rapid orbit of puzzling words
without concern for our mortality.

Though I want to play meadow bull of strength
who rules the world with haughty arrogance,
I feel more like the newly-hatched sea turtle
that races toward the moon inside the sea
then swims with awkward grace in tumbling waves
without concern for our mortality.

Though random shadows of the mountain lurk
on airplane wings above the holy world,
I carry bag of dirt from my hometown
while traveling west across houseless prairies
to heap it by the river where I die
without concern for our mortality.

Though we make angels in the sparkling snow
before bombs blow our homes to smithereens,
we write our stories in library books
that no one reads for twenty thousand years
so we catch stars in snowflakes of the mind
without concern for our mortality.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/03/…

Orpheus rearranges library books with the stories of our lives every day till Ungod becomes concerned about our mortality.

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