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V. PARIAN. VI. Delphi
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V. PARIAN
soft zephyrs blow
o queen of breezes halt
any rude assault
less it should lift those heavy tresses
and despoil his hair
gently gently morning sun
shine upon his forehead
illumine those golden locks
regilded by your tender fingers
birdsong quietly quietly
ease your sterner trebles
melodiously vibrate
his precious inner tympanum
not drum nor shake
passion passion all be stilled
let no eruption spoil
that smooth white skin
that calm reflective mind
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
VI. DELPHI
i. time rolls back
mist seeps from the mountain
curtaining the gorge
hangs like forgetfulness
against the soggy trees and rocks
mutes all the exciting echoes
in contemplation's inner ecstacy
bursting the horizon in his four horse chariot
the sun god rouses Gaia
from her wordless contemplation
dispels the rolling mist, reveals...
temenos, the sacred precinct
hallowed by Apollo
invisible leylines magicked into stone
at Delphi among the mountains
in the valley birdsong wells and wells
like bubbling water of the holy spring
reflecting liquid light on marble steps
and on the margin of the marble wall -
so the birdsong echoes up the chasm
hundreds of generations worshipped here
brought gifts for Leto's son
their bronze charioteer
stares out across the centuries
Cleobis stands with Biton, side by side
the bearded youthful Plutarch, priest and devotee
looks inward to his vision of the god
Antinous the Roman emperor's love
assumes the aspect of the deity
above, an eagle bisects the sky
whose distant fathers watched the gathering crowds
assembled for the theatre and the games
ii. morning coffee
in these mountains are the living gods
in this stone circle their influence is drawn
down from the mountain skies
this silence is the silence of All-Time
draw near me here, draw nearer
the tips of ghostly outstetched fingers
touch, a phantom white hand unseen grips
I feel pine-scented breath upon my face
birdsong in the gorge is Gaia's music
welcoming the Loved One back to earth
the Lord has come
my living Lord has come
shy as a waiter bringing morning coffee
here on the terrace above the sounding gorge
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