All Turn To Leaves
© Surazeus
2025 03 11

Every road I walk among faceless trees
I leave behind memories on fallen leaves
that swirl away in mute forgetful wind.
The children of my heart who play unnamed
gather leaves of my memories with small hands
and sew them into their own new memories.

In the golden spring of our young romance
we remold old broken hopes of childhood
into house where we shelter our new hopes.
Our childhood hopes to win glorious fame
transform into the children of our hearts
who mold their own hopes from dreams of the Earth.

We write stories of our childhood on leaves
that we sew into clothes we wear to hide
shame of our naked weakness in the world.
We carve our names on stones from muddy fields
and throw them into deep indifferent sea
so we can grow potatoes to eat now.

We dig up bones of our ancestral souls
so we can build strong shelter from the storm
that hurls hostile rage of the sky at us.
We carve bones of our ancestors in flutes
to play heart-enchanting music of love
that vibrates in our bodies after death.

Every river I cross on forest path
sings strange secrets of failure and success
that define my character I perform.
I build the wall of stone with trembling hands
to protect my family with garden home
safe from the cruel greed of slavers and thieves.

The house I build from bones of my bold hopes
protects my descendants for many years
till they spread out to colonize the world.
With bones of my soul as supporting stones
I build foundation of our growing clan
so we unify nations of the world.

We build sprawling empires of thought control
around shining idol of me as god
for I am founding father of our state.
We chronicle history of our success
on scrolls at first, then on tablets of gold,
which all turn to leaves blown by winds of time.

Glorious empires we build with our hopes,
based on First Father as God from the sky,
collapse into ruins of wordless stones.
Every tree I pass on long road of life
whispers tales of empires that rise and fall
from hopes of gods who are leaves in the wind.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/03/…

Orpheus assembles leaves scattered in wind from countless ancient books that chronicle the rise and fall of thousands of empires all lost in time.

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