Lost Son Of Lucifer
2018 12 06
The old bearded man dressed in long green robe
appears on stage before the silent crowd
gathered in huge temple by the broad river
that flows from jagged mountains to the sea.
"I am Surazeus, son of Saturnus,
son of Kronos, lost son of Lucifer,
the Maker of Light who shows us the Way
from waste land of fear through labyrinth of lies
to paradise we create with our hands
where we tend fruit trees within walls of Heaven."
The crowd laughs, then vanishes in soft wind
that whispers in pine trees on the snowy mountain
where ravens talk about philosophy
and wolves play heart-sweet hymns on violins.
"I am nobody, wandering in dark woods
on never-ending quest for Holy Grail
that shimmers in hands of the girl I love
who reincarnates our eternal souls,
alive since we woke in the swirling sea
and seek to fly from Earth among the stars."
The angel flies high from Scythia to Scotia
where the old bearded man sits in dark cave
and talks to spirits of his dead ancestors
projected by his mind to glow on snow flakes.
"I traveled west ten thousand years to find
sacred island where the sun is reborn,
but all I found is that the Earth is round,
and spins around the sun through empty space,
so here I will dream flow of history stream
that shimmers in the bright blood of my brain."
The young boy, strumming guitar on the road,
journeys nowhere Seattle to Miami
to find the land where his spirit was born,
but sings tales about journey of mankind.
"I chart the progress of humanity
on time-animated globe of world history
transforming from war-fractured nation-states
into one United Nations of Earth
through epic tale of wise philosophers
who seek truth about the nature of things."
#Poem #Poetry #ArtOfPoetry #HistoricalFiction #AmWriting #DailyPoem #Lucifer #Satan #LightMaker #Quest #UN #Goth