Hang Out On The River Shore
© Surazeus
2026 11 10

I never hang out on the river shore
like my ancestors did millions of years,
gathering fruit from trees full of fierce snakes,
fishing from rivers full of crocodiles,
and huddling in caves we dig from hillsides
where we eat and sing around the bright fire.

Though I spend all day at my office desk,
mapping features with geospatial software
that depict the infrastructure of towns,
such as buildings where people live and work,
and roads where people drive cars back and forth,
I long to hang out on the river shore.

While sitting in office with door and window,
where people walk by sunrise to sunset,
I imagine how my ancestors lived
in small pillared homes on the river shore
where they performed daily routines of life
gathering food from bounty of the Earth.

I want to carve wood from trees into planks
so I can build the house that shelters us,
and build the wagon that carries our goods,
and build the boat that transports our frail souls
to grand temple where tribes from every vale
gather to feast at sacred festivals.

I want to chronicle in epic tale
normal people of prehistoric times
who go about routines of daily life
without fighting each other in harsh wars
over whose mortal leader will play god
to found dynasties of national rulers.

Every god recorded in ancient tales,
and deified in grand religious myths,
were normal people struggling to survive
who performed great deeds protecting their tribe,
fighting against oppressors with strong courage
so normal people may live in calm peace.

Some days I want to leave the office calm,
pause mapping features of our complex world,
and hang out on the river shore again
to feel breeze of timeless faith kiss my soul
so I recall all my ancestral lives
that program how my brain perceives this world.

I want to fish, and gather eggs from nests,
arrange stones in small circle to spark flames
on which I roast lamb stew with herbs and spices,
press apples into cider with cinnamon,
to feast in endless twilight of the world,
then sing my epic tale of human progress.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/11/…

Orpheus wanders on lush shore along the Bodincus River past small pillared homes where mothers cook, fathers build wagons, and children play chase among apple trees.

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