Publication 673
By Arcadian on
Monday, October 18, 2004
at
13:15
Location:
Australia
Registered:
Friday, July 30, 2004
Posts:
63
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Anagnorisis at the Paralea
It is late evening
Last breath is exhaled on the canvas
A soliloquy of rope and plank;
it is a refrain of an old air,
it took a good effort to travel so far
Alone now in Nereid's scalloped citrine scales.
I'am but a bronze solitary speck like
a flame that was ingited by a flint,
flickers here and there and cupped by warm hands
I approach the waters of your harbour
Eyesight strains in the faded light
I look for the familiar, but
tall pines cast long shadows and slender fingers
point to impenetrable thickets.
The prow cuts the path forward
but reveals nothing as yet.
Oars oscillate in the ocean and make foam in their wake
Exhausted and weary from travel. I wait luckily
dew drops of ambrosia from heaven
trickle like tears and nourish my being
I feel Invigorated and blessed,
O god now i remember the way you were:
so serene with creative purpose
as you ply the needle with thimble
into a rich woven tapestry. And the flames
that leap and dance in the hearth
keep you so warm and I hope
would not extinguish as you while away the hours
How I remember now , the familiar currents:
the undulating hillsides with trembling poplars,
emerald clear beaches, with white sandy dunes
Yes I know now, this old plank will guide me
as I drift to you with a gladdend heart so full of memories
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Anagnorisis at the Paralea
