A Dream of the Louvre
February 9, 2011 Comments Off on A Dream of the Louvre
Clean cataracts of light flow over bare marble contours, kneeling before the darkness of the tunnel, the passage where the Greek poet went to die. And in a shadowed alcove stand I with my silver stylus drawing gossamer geometries in a beam of light. After a time, I was condemned, and stood bound in tears to a column, sentenced to slow death for betrayed love. I stood bound, and then the hellen spirit swept forward from the labyrinth below the palace, pressed forward against me, and I felt his cool cheek against mine. And straight my pain eased, and I was drawn forward with him; he drew me down into the dark mazes, where we wander still, and quietly visit the thresholds beyond the ken of mortals.