Haunt Our Empty Home
Haunt Our Empty Home
© Surazeus
2025 12 14
If I get safely home on road of faith
after walking nowhere ten thousand years
perhaps you will see me as the wild fox
that wanders without care in city streets
while you drive your car without angel wings
then call my name when I gaze in your eyes.
When I transform into lithe human being
you take my hand with innocent respect
so we may dwell in possibility
where windows of our hopes frame what could be
if we return to chambers of our hearts
with everlasting love in paradise.
Together in uncertain slant of light
we heft our hearts with brave cathedral tunes
to heal unheavenly hurt of deep love,
hearts afflicted by misunderstood words
that twist true meanings into breathless fear
till we transcend the distance with new faith.
Our lonely sapling town on roadless plain
reveals delirious flowers in our brains
that bloom from inner shadows of desire,
lost deep in fields of golden wind-blown wheat
till glass rain shadows innocent despair
because we paint our names on new-road signs.
Yet when I hear song of the balladeer
assert world view of my merciless bride,
I hide what ails my withered heart at noon
with anguished lily rotten on my brow
for you have vanished at harsh flash of dawn
as fairy child in meadows of blind mist.
Your wild eyes lure me to your elven grove
where we dream endless paradise of love
in fleeting hour of sun-veiled dance with death
till I wake startled in lush dew-wet grass
and wander mute along the busy road
where cars race past eternity of now.
I find you by wood coffin of our son
killed in jungle war across the cruel sea,
red tears of chaos streaming from your eyes
that flash fierce hurricanes of social change
to shatter pillars of our world empire
that crumbles prairie homes in nuclear wind.
If I revert back to my primal form
as wild fox hunting in snow-mountain range
far from the busy streets of city wealth,
I wonder if you will escape its maze
and search for me in valley of tall pines
where we forever haunt our empty home.
surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/12/…
Orpheus comforts Ophelia as they weep at the funeral of their son Orion killed in the Vietnam war.
#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism