Weird Energy Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 10 01

Alone in grove of maple trees at noon
she stares down in the dark bottomless well
where the meaningless horror about truth
glitters silver as mirror of her mind
reflecting timeless beauty of the sky
that ripples solemnly from falling tears.

Because time flows as slow as sparkling stream
that quivers beneath canopy of leaves,
she winds the clock with tight contingency
so gears of fierce intensity click soft
through calm unwinding of infinity
that ticks each passing moment of lost faith.

Besides the letter she receives each month
that details exploration of the world,
she reads the slender volume of quaint verse
expressing passion of the princess bride
who stands on cliff of gusting wind with pride
before she leaps from faith into the light.

False positive of sudden pregnancy
corrupts her peaceful arrogance of faith
with haughty compassion for anyone
who walks the rugged road of anywhere
beyond the far horizon of despair,
and then she sighs and turns another page.

Across the windy moor of honesty,
followed by the blind raven of desire,
she hurries toward nowhere with measured steps
to ask the old man on the broken rock
why he keeps shouting her classified name
to lure Orpheus from the Underworld.

Accepting ticket for the country train
with trembling hand covered by black lace glove,
she turns away from locked door of his heart
and waits on platform with the hungry ghosts
who wonder if she has fallen from grace
despite her frail crown of civility.

One hundred years after she was not born
as gentle daughter of the magistrate,
she walks the wagon road in Idaho
toward the white-painted house among tall pines
where she plays piano for the blind god
and sings, "I come to the garden alone."

Death always walks beside us in the world
so we choose to savor beauty of truth
that shimmers wordlessly through everything
which vibrates with weird energy of faith
to motivate our journey beyond fear
when she holds my hand and smiles in my eyes.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/10/…

Orpheus wanders around looking for the woman whose name he keeps hearing in the voice of the wind that blusters in the rugged mountain vale of somewhere else.

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