Alive With Pleasant Pain
© Surazeus
2026 09 28

The dry sand of the desert teaches me
the preciousness of water from the sky,
so I pray thanks through humble orisons
to the faceless Cloud Ghost who cannot hear,
yet drenches me with cold indifferent rain
that shivers me alive with pleasant pain.

Soft purple shimmer of the morning sky,
that shines with holy glimmers in our eyes,
wakes tender bodies on soft flower beds
so we rise up from graves of frantic dreams
to sit in circle by the sparkling stream
and eat sweet apples as we sing strange hymns.

Though haughty angels of sharp mountain peaks
mock frail flames of our conscious ardency,
we stride against doomed sorrow of our fate
that we all die from monsters or old age,
for faceless Cloud Ghost haunts our sentient steps
as blind death that swallows all life in gloom.

Together working with our crafting hands
we build long sturdy bridge of fallen trees
to cross the gushing river of despair,
so Death rewards our cleverness with gifts
that trick the foolish with an early death
yet reward the wise with creative life.

The wet mud of the river teaches me
the preciousness of warm light from the sun,
so I carve wand of wisdom from tree branch,
and sharpen stone I bind with vine of faith
in spear I thrust to kill demonic hate,
then fashion cloak that conceals me from Death.

With diamond sphere refracting light of truth
I lead my curious tribe on holy quest
to map strange landscape of this spinning world
through journey to explore the Promised Land
where we build empire of the Watching Eye
that rules our lives on ziggurat of faith.

Once bravely young with passion to explore,
I now stand aged with knowledge of the world,
old as the twisted oak on hill of skulls
where I hang, one-eyed, forty thousand years
above the well of words where serpent runes
morph me to wingless angel with star eyes.

Strange beauty of this world inspires my heart
with love for every living soul on Earth
to see in constellations of bright stars
clear chart that maps the fortune we create
as destiny we choose with our free will
to generate new life before we die.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/09/…

Orpheus leads us up winding road of Mount Purgatory so we can vast roundness of the world that spins forever in the godless void of hope.

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