Melodies On Oak Flute
© Surazeus
2025 06 04

Zillions of people who have lived and died
follow me around in the air I breathe,
and fall on my head as cold drops of rain,
so I stop by the river in the woods
and try to recite their forgotten names
which I hear whispered in song of the sea.

Eyes black as the new moon behind rain clouds,
she smiles at me with beaming gaze of love
as we sit on the rocky shore of time
so I place in her hand the tangerine
which I plucked from tree of eternity,
then she touches my cheek with her warm hand.

Always gazing in abyss of my heart,
she tells me how the universe was born
and how light weaves wild atoms into spheres
where conscious creatures crawl up sparkling streams
and how my admiration for her being
sparks new soul in warm cavern of her mind.

After herding goats for six thousand years
in rugged hills of lush Arcadia
beneath the sloping knoll in myrtle shade
where they drink from sparkling springs of Cranae,
I ask sweet Daphne if she knows my name,
but she just smiles and gazes at the moon.

Where heifers low beside the crystal stream
young Daphnis gazes at the rising sun,
amazed at how its light seems to create
varied shape of this world which undulates
with river valleys between rocky hills
where nightingales sing sweet among tree boughs.

Gold honey flowing from the sticky comb
tastes sweet in liquor bubbling in the pot,
so Thyrsis plays melodies on oak flute
while Daphnis strides with apples in his arms
which he throws to each couple on the shore
who feed their children around glowing fires.

Sweet visions of life in the countryside
where my ancestors dwelled in paradise
long before men invented spears and swords
blind my eyes to the world empire of towers
with connected world wide web of computers
that expands each day on our spinning globe.

Though no one weeps for death of Daphnis now
four thousand years after he herded goats,
yet still I think about his gentle ways
and how the village girls wept at his grave
that was blasted by bombs in the world war
which burns every library to the ground.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/06/…

Orpheus sits on sloping knoll in myrtle shade beside the grave of Daphnis while holding hands with his twin sister Daphne who smiles through her tears.

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