Raven In The Apple Tree
Raven In The Apple Tree
© Surazeus
2026 05 20
Because the raven in the apple tree
speaks ancient language of water on rocks
that frame mysterious beauty of the world
in tangled sentences of faithless words
that mirror reverse image of my soul,
I always walk backward through every door.
Though I left homeland of Gothinia
one hundred thousand years ago at dawn,
I still feel frosty wind of snow-capped mountains
swirl down across the endless steppes of sorrow
which makes my heart ache with strange memories
that leave me stranded on the Caspian shore.
In eerie darkness of the endless night,
as sparkling waves of hope swirl round my legs,
I see bright angel descend from the moon
in wind-blown dress of ambivalent wings
to embrace my body with eager love
that sparks soul of our child inside her heart.
Yet star-eyed seraph hovering over me
bestows on fragile mirror of my soul
sacred name that signifies my dire fate
which glows as lamp I bear in trembling hand
to light my way across rough wilderness
till tread of my feet blazes road of hope.
Each road my feet blaze sea to shing sea
becomes wheel-worn way across the land
now paved with asphalt in the blistering sun
where billions drive cars in circles of faith
along passionate river of true love
where we construct homes to shelter our hearts.
When flock of swallows threads words of my heart
across the endless steppes of shining wheat,
I follow trail of wings through loneliness
to find home of the sun beyond the sky
with ache of longing in my homeless heart
to eat sweet apples with you by the lake.
While you dance gracefully in flowered field
and laugh with ache of joy to be alive,
I play uncanny melodies of love
by twanging taut strings on turtle-shell lyre
to sing of beauty in your smiling eyes
that wake my heart from grave of bleak despair.
Electra smiles bright as the morning sun
as we embrace with hope by flowing stream
to kiss in harmony with sparrow song
that drenches our lithe bodies in sunlight
so when we sink in nothingness of death
we leave our children alive in the world.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/05/…
Orpheus sings to himself while sitting on shore of the Caspian Sea, hoping to one day see his love Electra again if she returns from vale of singing skulls.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism