Westward On The Signless Road
© Surazeus
2026 10 28

My ancestors have always left the land
where they had lived since the dawn of their dream,
traveling westward on the signless road
to follow the sun across the great sky,
then settled down in some new fertile vale
to raise their children in the Promised Land.

Now after ten thousand years of lost time
I can look back on the long winding road
of their journey each generation west
over mountains and across seas in search
for something they had never understood,
and see there is no reason for our quest.

Since I am just one individual node
in ever-reincarnating chain of being,
evolving through each life to become god
in human flesh, awake with cosmic light,
I know our endless journey is not done,
for I have traveled sea to shining sea.

What restless spark spurs my incessant trip,
forth from safe haven of my childhood home,
still urges me to walk the endless road,
though I have aged, and prefer to remain
quietly mapping history of mankind
in marble temple of the Water God.

As I cease forward motion of my soul
and settle into daily work routines,
that restless spark flashes bright in young hearts
of my children, eyes glowing with that flame
of hope that guides us far beyond the known,
so they shall journey on as I rest here.

Each land along the journey of my soul,
which my ancestors left so long ago,
still teems with descendants of other souls
who stayed tied to our original land,
and thrived in generations to this day
so they remain in vale of my first dream.

I long to travel back on road of hope
to visit every land they left behind,
and meet the people who still live there now,
distant threads in tapestry of our genes
that bind us all in matrix of world mind,
so I can understand this urge to search.

From one small tribe on fertile river shore,
who thrive between the mountain and the sea,
we spread in all directions of the wind
to colonize the world with Calibans,
so I would climb the Ziggurat of Ur
to hear the ancient song of Ishtar ring.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/10/…

Orpheus stands alone on Ziggurat of Ur, as Zephyr dances around him with sorrow, and gazes across the waste where thousands of gardens once bloomed with families of happiness.

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