Eyes Of Lost Souls
2016 10 11
Standing in the dark night when all the lights
are broken, I listen for ancient songs
preserved in the wind and the flowing water,
but my secret name I dreamed true at birth
spins unknown at the center of the Earth.
Still awake at midnight in tower of glass,
which I built on foundation of white stone
when the tower my grandfather built was struck
by lightning bolt, random and mindless strike
of chaotic death, and puzzle of truth
tumbled down into fragments of lost dreams,
I listen to voices of sleeping people
that swirl around my head on fluttering wings.
They fear the harsh oppression of the tyrant
who looms from the castle of steel and glass
on vampire wings, and seeks to drink our blood,
but Rapunzel comes down from Tower of Truth
and wields the vorpal blade that flashes bright
with light of justice to defend our nation
in great battle against dragon of hate.
When I hear the cheerful chirp of the robin,
after standing all night in cave of nothing,
I speak the word light and sunlight gleams gold,
substantial rays of wisdom that reveal
frame of this sphere contained inside my eye,
and wonder how rays of light weave thick web
of material forms that sustain our souls.
I laugh to believe that words of my mouth
conjure objects that exist from dark nothing
because I know this rock, river, and tree
will remain long after brain in my skull
rots away to cold muck, devoured by worms,
where seeds of apples sprout into new trees.
I wonder that so much drama of life
plays endless stories in spheres of my eyes,
embodied by spirits of nameless people
who copulate and kill in endless struggle
for glory and fame in their social game,
because every person who ever lives
will be unmasked and disperse back to light.
I went to the tree by the sparkling stream
and stood ten thousand years in sun and rain
to wake from endless dream of evolution,
so now I give myself new secret name
which I read written in the light of stars.
I see my soul carved in marble that stands
at the center of the bridge between worlds
so I teach you alphabet I designed
and listen to you singing ancient spells
that beam the vision of your eyes on clouds
who gazes down at us with silver eyes.
If you cannot trust everything I write,
carve your thoughts in meadow mud where wheat grows,
then bake bread from your dreams so we can feast
on love that bleeds from blind eyes of deceit
to recognize truth in eyes of lost souls.
#Poem #Poetry #Modernism #PostModernism #MetaModernism #Conceptualism #Evolution #Enlightenment #Meditation #Buddhism #Zen
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