How Flowers Like To Feel
© Surazeus
2026 03 22

If sunlight knows how flowers like to feel,
and raindrops understand my heart of steel,
then I remember how my mother dreams
delightful laughter of snow-sparkling streams
when firefly fairies lead me through dark mist
to willow where my love and I first kissed.

Since spring-dawn light knows how to cheer my heart
without my resorting to the star chart,
I step through wreckage of this modern world
to find lost code book of the cosmic herald,
but all I find in tattered photographs
are memories of people working on crafts.

I must remember what my eyes perceive
enshrined in altars where the living grieve
for friends and family killed in endless wars
whose ghostly shadows haunt unopened doors
as if our hearts are birds in burning trees
whose songs record official killing sprees.

Should I vow justice to end tyranny,
encoding courage in strange litany
sung by the blind girl by square fountain pool
whose voice enchants hearts of both seer and fool,
I might rouse spirits of my citizens
to welcome wandering homeless denizens.

Or clocks in trunks of elms might rewind fate
with gears that open wide the jeweled gate
allowing refugees from wars of greed
to enter Heaven with classified creed
based on binary benefits of truth,
endorsing fusion of messiah sleuth.

Through hybrid functions dream machines provide
pilgrims discover hills where they abide
by mapping franchise where the hunter dwells
with mission to mortgage conceptual wells
for faithful warriors of the mountain ghost
who sends his daughter to play social host.

Unlicensed sellers in new market stalls
display masks of gods swiped from temple walls
for children of the corn to wear with pride
yet wrestle angels on the mountain side
because our faces vanish in gold glow
refracted through blinding mirror of snow.

With moral payment to the palace guard
my mind previews vision in fractured shard
that twirls from shattered suddenness of death
though I fly with radar brain of deep breath
over bright rainbow to the Promised Land
where Zeus rules world empire from Samarkand.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/03/…

Orpheus wanders streets of Samarkand, observing all the interesting people who dwell together from every country on Earth in harmonious peace.

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