Breath Of Timeless Stars
© Surazeus
2025 07 04

Where shall I put the emptiness of truth
that highlights essence of the thing itself
with subtle roundness of conceptual loss
that sparks assurance of the wondering mind
to measure multiplicity through thought
with wholeness of unthinkable respect?

Curved surfaces of felt objective things
seduce aggressive passion of my heart
to love completeness of existing forms
that pulse with psychic breath of timeless stars
encased in eyes of souls with conscious brains
who find their secret name in light of hope.

If I emerge from twisting vine of time
compact with lived experience of fear,
I might survive with bold mischievousness
that helps me reassemble from strange dreams
my broken heart with tangled roots of faith
because I love futility of light.

With obvious knowledge of my secret self,
that sprouts awake from fertile ground of being,
I bracket segments of intense events
through progress of imaginary tales
contained in space I clear with grasping hands
to build new world vision from painful respect.

Because I steal the golden key of faith
from bitter demon of the rotten tree,
who mourns the fallen angel of the moon,
I bury fear of perfect pulchritude
with sadness in the book of filthy lies
so wings may sprout from anguish of my heart.

Till seven egrets with electric wings
return from burning tower of the fool
with crown of jewels fallen from his head,
I will convene council of faceless ghosts
with mission to design our new world view
that programs role for every human being.

Because the egrets have all flown away
to mark collapse of our global empire,
I shall recalculate financial fate
to fund attention of courage reborn
for learning language of the apple tree
that tries to explain secret of rebirth.

Trapped in the haunted room of somewhere else,
the blue-eyed girl whose smile builds monuments,
describes anatomy of cosmic truth
contained in molecules of floating clouds
that sprinkle rain of life on soil of time
so we hold hands and walk along the river.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/07/…

Orpheus and Ophelia walk along the river, holding hands, to join communal picnic in the city park, then after sunset watch principles of democracy explode in the sky.

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