Abandoned Ghosts Of Time
Abandoned Ghosts Of Time
© Surazeus
2025 09 21
Soft wind that ripples on the meadow pond
cares nothing for the strife of politics,
so I become the grass that drinks the rain
and sings in harmony with cheerful birds,
though every tweet is territorial,
declaring how this space of light is mine.
The crow that flaps her dark angelic wings
swoops over meadow pond of silent faith,
evanescent shape almost vanishing
in gray shadow of undulating clouds,
which sparks strange memory from my childhood
when I would wait for Jesus to return.
The black-cloaked preacher in the circus tent
declares Jesus, king of the whole world,
will soon return in blaze of flaming clouds
as he descends on crystal wings of fire,
so I sit by the meadow pond all day
staring at gray clouds that silently swirl.
So I decide the crow with Stygian wings,
as devil that soars from the hand of Christ,
presents itself as symbol of my heart
that promises salvation of respect
refracted through keen mind of intellect
to calculate state of reality.
Since no one hears in wilderness of ghosts
dire prophecy that Cassandra proclaims,
which echoes warning of social collapse,
I sit on lush shore of the meadow pond
to strum the lyre of Mercury and sing
how no one descends from the empty sky.
Though I sit alone by the meadow pond,
surrounded by abandoned ghosts of time
who ask me to give them faces and names,
I feel divine energy of God glow
bright in the boundless hollow of my heart
as planet that now teems with conscious souls.
I feel soul of messiah in my heart
emanate beauty of the cosmic mind,
so I transcend framed ideologies
to merge all warring religions on Earth
in one universal faith of mankind
that unites opposing doctrines in myth.
I row wood boat across the meadow pond
and listen to wordless voice of the wind
congregate all abandoned ghosts of time
in global community of the lost
who transform deserts into paradise
by planting seeds of fruit trees in our graves.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/09/…
Orpheus sits by the meadow pond and imagines Jesus riding in the glass dome of a flying saucer that flashes as he descends through blazing clouds of glory at the second coming.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism