in one signifying moment the just awakened poet sensed:

“most of what matters has already taken place in my absence”

and still persisting in his quandary:

“if now and then we merely stumble upon glimpses,

how might we carry on to sing of these renewed visions?” 

thus from whence this poem commenced:

Hellenic desert night

tittering coyotes scattering

along the outskirts of Western Thrace,

red elephant trees and purple sage dancing about Orpheus’s head,

a sudden wet wind

conjuring further mellifluous chords

surrounding, ensconcing decapitated voices

and all the while,

silvery sweet Calliope’s lyre endured

weaving songs magnificent,

till Orpheus’s now disembodied ears stumbled,

and clutching at his mother’s scroll,

a somnambulist’s struggle,

both mother and son stumbled over

Calliope’s ivy flowing twining hair

and the two, connected by birth,

continued rolling along,

rock by rock,

pebble by pebble,

each grain of sand beckoning,

this mother and her son 

thirsty for verse

while Siren’s voice enfolded, enticed, and evoked 

white black magpies

demonically circling above,

then scattering:

all souls back to the garden

 yet still stubbornly loyal to her anointed struggle

beholden to her father Zeus’s decree,

Calliope, despite eyes bloodied,

muse vision remarkable

another poem swallowed

another aura suppressed, shut down, stillborn,

somehow, her magnificent breath

reawaked to a worthier and more robust soul forming

as her songs again emerged:

the sweetest honey

to anoint the tongues of the gods of Greece!

then with first precious light

as Venus wended her improvised path,

as windswept almond and windflower trees lay bare,

Calliope’s roused breath touched every inspiration in perpetual exactitude,

and odists again became unfettered,

grateful sailors reboarded their shotgun radiant express train

circled back to Mount Olympus,

while we ephemerally irrelevant poets sped onward

embracing our muse’s resurrected vision:

a glowing portal

now radiating forward 

hopefully within our collective sight

12/7/17

Port St. Lucie