Ghost In Every Photograph
© Surazeus
2025 11 28

I sense your absence all over our home
so I feel comfortable in empty rooms,
and gaze out glassless window of my heart
to watch your shadow flicker on bright grass
as you tend garden of flowers and herbs
and sing through tunes of sparrows in pear trees.

You are sweet ghost in every photograph
which I have taken all over the world
whom no one else can see with mortal eyes
though you are present in every lush scene,
soul shining bright as secret morning star,
framed by the wordless memories of my heart.

When I wander blind in vast wilderness
after thieves invade safe haven I built
I shiver frail in anxious misery,
groping through spiritless gloom of regret,
till bright light of your heart illuminates
empuzzled landscape of my aching heart.

I hope lamp of my heart shines bright for you
as you for me with guiding prudency
so we, united with vigorous goals,
combine assertive efforts of our hearts
to build safe haven we share as one mind,
constructing paradise from cautious hope.

Soft whiteness from brave words of love I speak
wraps cape of passion to veil fragile heart
that shields your systematic chemistry
from hostile strikes of order-fractured skies
stretched audaciously from uprooted base
by overzealous hope for honesty.

At flash of sunlight creeping over hills
we start insurgency of tragic faith
through breathing exercise of glimpsed respect
for supple vastness bounding Earth with gloom
till emptiness of holy rooms reveals
brave earnestness which motivates our fight.

Thus always we transcend lame tendency
to transform architecture of our brains
with complex rhythms solving vacancies
through graduated formulas for flight
based on promotion our intentions earn
since death dissolving leaves our souls alive.

Equipped with mental clock of measured force,
significant for missionaried clans,
we build new empire on commercial games
to balance use value with labor cost
through fair exchange of clever services
that conjure your ghost from my memories.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/11/…

Orpheus and Ophelia settle down in fertile valley of the hooting owl to raise three children with calm discipline by teaching compassion for all living beings.

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