Genesis

Before there was a world
there was space.
The universe was possible.
Nothing was certain.

Now the soul may speak
of the change that takes
one life to another.
The gods, who know all
that can be done,
inspire my song
from the Creation
onward to this
that is now.



Pygmalion

See the statue smile.
Touching her,
He feels a tremor in the stone.
And her eyes,
They watch the artist at work.
He speaks to her,
Murmuring thoughts
He dare not say aloud,
Not to the world he knows.
She is art, and understands
What cannot be spoken.
It is felt too deeply,
Like the love he feels for his creation.



Beggars’ Bounty

(The gods, disguised in rags, experience life on earth)

That shall include the horn-shaped skull
Washed on the strand by ocean tides.
And the leaf of the forest,
Dried out on the stone ground.
The gawping eyes of toads.
The leap of a hart evading the hunter.
Reflections on clear water,
Dazzling Daedalus and son.
Then hearing celestial sounds
In cedar and sycamore.

There are things to lose
In the dream of freedom.



The Bacchae

The wind that shook the vines
Raised the skirts of women,
Scrambling to the summit
Of their wilder dreams.
The god of abandon
Makes madness of everything.
In this state nobody cares.
The silken shreds cling to the gorse.
Satin shoes discarded sink into mud.

The rains that fall on the city
Slow the pursuit of men
In search of reason.
Sleep overtakes them.
Without iron and fire
The King is powerless.
All he has he summons,
Prepared alone to face the goat-god.
What he sees destroys him.



Orpheus Appears

On a desolate plain
Comes the heavenly song
From the God-gifted one,
Lyre in hand,
Wrestling with the wind.
He wanders in search of shade
Where none is found
On half-barren ground.

The sound of his song
Is sure to move heaven
To raise the cypress
Among the wild grass
For the sake of harmony
That stills the air
And lulls the wild heart.

All manner of trees
Position themselves hurriedly,
Arms outstretched in gestures fixed.
Their speech is silenced.
Sadness steals through the forest
Till the music wakens the world,
Opening the eyes of songbirds.



Actaeon

‘How dare he trespass?’
We asked of Actaeon,
Knowing all the while
The laws of chance favoured him
To be the one who saw her.
Revealed, ashamed and vengeful,
She was acting like one forsaken.
It was all leading to the end.
The hunting instinct stirs
The will unleashed from reason,
Hurrying to the chase.
Antlered Actaeon has been found wanting.



Orpheus Descending

Centaurs are still in Arcadia,
As still as frost.
Into the fissure of earth
Goes this life ephemeral,
Deeper than the certainties
Of the hermit’s dream.
The darkness alone
Sees Orpheus go down
To the rumoured margin
Of an exceptional scene,
Returning to find nothing
Has changed, except hope.