Theology Of Apple Trees
© Surazeus
2025 12 20

When I hear sad raven on the phone line
discuss theology of apple trees,
I turn my face toward shimmer of sunset,
expecting to see Visucia smile,
but by the cactus on porch of her house
I see her typewriter on fire with dreams.

Nine elms lined straight along the boulevard
talk about vertical tempo of faith
stored in secret archive of innocence
despite how psalms of broken harps reflect
repentant burden of the honest man
who sells his doubts in novels about fools.

Candles scream unsilently in the void
about names of the dead carved on wall stones
by trembling hand of the last vampire king
who confesses his love to the flute player,
but she prefers to play tennis at dawn
because she feels truth should never be sold.

If rows of houses by the railroad tracks
fade into shadows of gray pencil lines,
the crescent moon that knows our suffering
expands reluctant feathers of sunset
to brush smokestacks of sprawling factories
where blind workers construct robots of flesh.

Because I never reach end of the road
on breathless floating of chromatic bells,
I gasp at vision of rutilant hills
where coatless refugees from civil wars
learn how to drive cars by uttering oaths
in harmony with clocks in trunks of elms.

Unclaimed stories fester in pageless books
obscured by stark repetitions of rites
that villagers perform on broken bridge
though footsteps in snow reveal faceless ghost
who always lingers beside our locked doors
without expecting mercy sold by Death.

No sanctuary lamp glows in the tower
where Visucia paints my secret face
on fractured mirror of the pulsing mask
since no one knows the gospel of delays
sprouts from garden where serpents invent faith
to prove empty rooms remember my soul.

Alone in temple of the laughing skull,
I wait for Visucia to return
home from other side of the spinning Earth
because her passionate soul haunts my dreams
with the one puzzle piece of scriptural code
that completes spiraling wheel of my soul.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/12/…

Orpheus gives new violin to Visucia who beams with joy as she plays her favorite concerto about the raven girl who understands code of love.

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