Wordless Tongue Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 06 19

Ensconced in damp-soil hush of old oak woods,
I hold assertive passion of my breath
when red-tailed hawk lands on rail of my porch
and stares at me with gold demonic eyes
that wakes strange horror from peace in my heart
so I remember my true secret name.

Explaining why the sun designs our hearts,
the red-tailed hawk flaps frail wings wet from rain
and soars into vast blue of emptiness
but leaves one feather floating in my hand,
oiled softness shimmering with divinity
of timeless strength that jolts my heart with love.

Setting long taut feather of excessive faith
on river-smoothed stone of my aching heart,
I ponder mute integrity of death
that fills my heart with gusts of naked wind
more heavy than enormous rock of truth
that teaches me how absence must be felt.

Though sudden darkness of twilight rings clear
with clash of light beams metallically fierce,
I breathe deep brave ambition of the hawk
to observe two gangs of men with rage-sharp swords
fight over who will claim the jeweled crown
held high by young woman with storm-blue eyes.

After every man in contest for power
lies mangled and bleeding on thirsty grass,
I imagine with courage of disgust
that I claim that jeweled crown for myself,
but I stay hidden in shadows of fate
for men who wear the crown are always killed.

Turning away from field of toxic greed,
I walk inside the silver wind of faith
to catch the countless drops of sparkling rain
so I can taste eternal truth of love
that nurtures trees to spring from soil of hope
which bloom with apples of integrity.

Boiling pan of water on crackling flames,
I peel ripe apples to read oracle
with plan to decode fortune of my heart,
then brew sweet apple cider in moonlight,
which shimmers warm on wordless tongue of fate
when I sip sorrow of mute suffering.

When red-tailed hawk returns at flash of dawn,
sharp claws gripping pole of my cottage porch,
she gazes in my eyes with ancient truth
as if she knows strange secret of my heart,
so I whisper true name of every ghost
who tries to convince me I, too, can fly.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/06/…

Orpheus offers hot apple cider to Romeo and Cinderella when they stop by his cottage on their way to the City Dionysia theater festival in Athens.

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