Parnassus

Mount Parnassus...” the disembodied voice began

Those very sounds: Par – Nas – Us; hints of depth beyond the ascent

We wandered down an ancient path overgrown with history

Green parts into iridescent morning and I hold her hand

Tightly, for Sunlight burns bright on this tale

And because I love her

I know the voice has more to say – we’re welcome to this moment

Her lifelines and lovelines trace valleys through her silken skin

Trace down those lines to where the Garden of Delight first grew anew

I knew you

Younger, by a small menagerie of millennia

Channels carving, gorges forming, weaving tales of tempests

Troubles – the pain – Angel’s tears cascade as a summer’s rain

A lonely poet smiles at the scene he’s painted

Tender, without judgement, the eyes see those lines

Retracing anger, hurt, and fear; loss, dissolution

Carved in young arms...

“...was where Orpheus was gifted his lyre

Apollo’s golden strings beating out modal choirs...”

The voice intoned as her skin, and mine, flow

Her hand in mine “...as Thalia mused”

I felt her as I remembered

Apollo gave Orpheus the music of the spheres

Eons turning, endless circling, year on year on year

Apollo, god of poetry, gifts the young blood his lyre

Up through the valleys of desire

The gods decreed poetry and wine

The gods decreed music and the vine

Across the scales and relative time

So myths go, up Parnassus

Down, to Alex, Neil, and Geddy

La Villa Strangiato...