Angels Always Sing
© Surazeus
2025 05 24

Because angels in Heaven always sing,
praising glorious beauty of the Sun Soul,
I love to dive down in the messy world
and walk in fragile meat-bag of this self
that wanders ungracefully anywhere
to imitate songs angels always sing.

Forgetting I am real with hungry heart,
I gaze with awe at beauty of the sun
that weaves this messy world from rays of light,
so I float blissfully on futile wings
to experience freedom of surreal dreams
till pain drags me back down to solid Earth.

Soft sea breeze wafting from sun-sparkling waves
embraces me with surging energy
that fills me with compassion for all beings
though some attack me to control my soul
which forces me to fight for liberty
so I weep I must kill to remain free.

Sometimes, while wandering on the signless road
far beyond crowded city maze of hope,
I wonder if I fell on tattered wings
from flaming wisdom of the shooting star
for I feel urgent passion to transcend
corruptive framework of this seething world.

Because this messy world of tragedy
throbs with silent agony of faith
I feel eternal music of the stars
pulsing deep in clenched knot of my heart
so I relax and open flower wings
releasing music of angels in song.

Though my mother calls me Persephone
with soft voice half-whispered in restless wind,
I become one mind with the gate of death
to walk with courage of bold dignity
in rancid cavern of the jewel mine
where I sing sacred music of the stars.

Deep in dank cave of suffocating gloom
I scatter flowers on the sun-starved ground
as wind whistles tunes in my hollow bones
that wake the dead from slumber of despair
who follow me back to the upperworld
where they transform into white butterflies.

Shocked at bright beauty of the Sun Soul,
I gaze at Phoebus with adoring eyes
who gives me apple of the bleeding star
that cures my body of poisonous fruit,
so I embrace him with passionate love
as we transform into child of our hearts.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/05/…

Orpheus officiates at wedding of Persephone and Phoebus in the grotto of Aphrodite on shore of the River Styx in Elysium.

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