Picnics In The Glade
© Surazeus
2025 02 07

If we could go on picnics in the glade
by the happy river, like we used to,
we could assimilate glow of our hearts
as lovers lounging in flowers of hope
that wilts at untold tale of our lost pride,
deserving pleasure we keep to ourselves.

Though fungus clings to trunks of fallen trees
along untrodden trails of mountain glades,
we could commit our seasons of fresh youth
to carefree wanderings far from cityscapes
of relentless busyness to succeed,
yet how times have changed at the fall of truth.

Our wordless vanity of hope persists
in fooling us that all we know as true
might remain secure as foundation stone
on which we built our national world view
that every person breathing air of faith
deserves fair chance to work with dignity.

What strenuous agony of desire
still urges us to fight for what is right
straight against petulant aggressiveness
of thieves disguised as honest patriots
who insist fortune is for them alone,
according to beatitudes of stones.

All should inherit fertile land of faith
without cumbersome shade of blinding greed,
reflected clear in how the peacock struts,
but many poor in spirit grasp for power
where lone angels weep around human graves
by selling alien merit never earned.

Being born of Earth, we climb mountain trails
to transcend social hierarchies of power
in bid to reclaim opportunities
for living safely in vast urban zones
as ours with legal grounds of unproved birth,
since the moon glares askance at our desires.

At stark diminution of reserved fate,
trapped by extent of language unexpired
through amorous attention of police,
we claim with bold assertion of respect
green innocence of deeds ancient gods cause
humans to perform with penance of rage.

With curious indictment of bold deeds
we decide to escape the fascist state
imposed on institutions disempowered
by gangs of greedy goons in business suits,
and walk the signless wilderness of faith
to picnic in peace in the mountain glade.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/02/…

Orpheus and Ophelia leave the city to escape the immigration police, and picnic in peace in the mountain glade while helicopters hunt for them.

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