When Light Strides Bold
© Surazeus
2025 03 21

When light strides bold on solitary fields
and speaks to me of truth I should know well,
I weave its vibrant colors in my heart
as science overtakes my aching need
and teaches me to feel the sacrament
encroaching on my soul with eerie tones.

With each ancestral life of hope I walk,
awake in present body of my genes,
I find out who I am through suffering
as I abide with struggles of the heart
on unblazed trail past milestones of desire
where angels scold me with dire honesty.

Though tribe of my gene-clan is scattered far
and wide across the landscape of lost hope,
and everyone I love has turned to stones
that lie forgotten on the trail of tears,
I keep on walking toward dark distant hills
to reconcile my heart with knowing faith.

Black wings of ravens in the sprawling oak,
that flutter at approach of breathless fear,
reveal strange beauty of her star-bright eyes
that guide my way with confidence of love
through tangled forest of misconstrued words
where god of sorrow lurks by pool of lies.

She howls not at injustice of the world
for she steals away from its hostile games
to dance in meadow of the singing horse
who gives her wings of faithful mystery
so she can touch weird beauty of the sky
that mirrors secret wisdom of her heart.

While wandering on the hill of hopelessness,
we meet the moon-eyed prophet of despair
whose face is chiseled gaunt by wind-blown rain,
and ask if he can see future events,
but he points to the endless swirling sea
and chants grim spell that may set all hearts free.

The shriveled souls of fallen angels writhe
with violent agony surpassing faith,
dismissing possibilities through hope
that we may resurrect from rotten mud,
so we wrap all painful experiences
in secret book of miraculous life.

Across our tranquil land of signless roads
we follow shadow of the singing horse
to fertile Garden of Hesperides
where the wizard forges everyone keys
so we can share sweet joy of this brief life
when light strides bold on solitary fields.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/03/…

Orpheus and Ophelia meet Emily Dickinson who strides as light on solitary fields to understand how her ancestors know.

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