1.
Where oars once kissed stone and empire met the tide,
Begin where Rome tied her ships to land.
Face the rising sun and leave the city’s water-born mouth
Through jaws of stone that guard her breath.

2.
At once, favour the hand of the heart,
But keep your purse closed and your eyes averted—
Human voices cry out silver and flesh nearby,
Yet your feet must trace their edge, never their floor.

3.
Walk beside the old spine of the city,
Where stones remember shields and siege.
The path will suddenly twist as sharply as a legion’s drill—
Obey the turn without question.

4.
Now the city presses close on either side.
Pass through the throat of stone, narrow and dim,
Until a climb reveals itself to the side
Like an afterthought the city nearly forgot.

5.
Through iron’s mouth and up its teeth you go.
At the top, let your steps favour the right,
And move as one skirting secrets—
Keeping the forum’s back to your shoulder.

6.
Circle the murmuring heart of civic pride
Until the god-emperor bars your way.
Here, reverse your tale in a single sweeping arc,
Honouring Caesar only from without.

7.
Stone rises in solemn count—
Two tens and two more lift you closer to the sky.
Do not pause.
The climb is part of the question.

8.
Advance, and climb again—
This time a handful of steps, easily missed,
Yet required all the same
By those who seek what is hidden.

9.
Cross the open breath of the plaza.
When water laughs at your right-hand side,
Turn your face to where the sun stands highest
And descend once more.

10.
War lies frozen beneath your feet,
A battle captured in tiny stone.
Here, choose the path of the left hand
And enter the mother’s house.

11.
Before the Great Mother, look past devotion.
Behind her still gaze—
Where worshippers do not linger—
Your reward waits, patient and unseen.