Hidden Cave Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 07 20

Emerging from ceaseless stream of my thoughts,
eyes flashing with ten-billion-year-old stars,
I watch people work on the river shore,
and give each person their most secret name
that I cradle as treasure in my hands,
then return to my hidden cave of faith.

Put out my eyes and I will never see you,
seal up my ears and I shall never hear you,
break my arms and I can never embrace you,
and with broken feet I can never go find you,
but close my mouth with anguish of my heart
yet I will call your name with words of truth.

Collecting stones from the deep river bed
along with the bones of demons and gods,
I create new words that convey my thoughts
so seeds of truth bloom in flowers of love
which spur my heart to sing in odorous woods
in harmony with the cloud-soaring lark.

Thick veil of tree branches conceal my vale
from endless torrent of afternoon rain
till I reach out my timorous hands of hope
to grasp the golden shafts of light that fling
eternity through radiant glow of faith
whole stone-smoothing water croons me to sleep.

No matter how far I search in the world,
climbing mountains and striding along rivers,
I will never find myself anywhere,
so I create myself from words I speak
since I realize I am where I am now,
always dreaming strange beauty of this life.

When the Guardian of Dreams in long black gown
wanders the endless landscape of my heart,
with moon-white lily in her gentle hand,
I offer apples I steal from the snake,
so I feel vastness of this shivering world
when she smiles bright as lightning at midnight.

When our souls touch with respectful desire,
the great chord of the universe sings clear
with deep vibration of the pulsing star
that tunes our hearts in harmony with time
so we become one flash of ecstasy
wound tight in matrix of conceptual love.

My heart mirrors image of your pure soul
with heavy honesty of selfless love
that forms the sturdy ship of mutual trust
which bears us safely through the deadly storm
for we are alone together on Earth
in consecrated passion of our love.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus gives apples to Ophelia as he rows their river boat to the shore of the fishing village where everyone gathers for the evening feast.

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