Part 2: Ancient Water-Rites
Æleon’s lamp in hand, children in oxen-cart
Riding, we left our Attic home, Demeter, and
Her fields awaiting harvest. Ancient mountain
Sage I sought, water-rites performed at spring
Of archaic gods, blood offerings to reverse
Fates, time-flowing streams at his beckoned
Call, returning injured and dead to yearning
Families, restoring hearth and home.
With Æleon’s lantern, sage I approached on
Bended knee. Old master, mind god-touched,
Dark eyes knowing liquid, dagger of bronze
Presented, my palms cut, blood into clear pools
Dripped, rivulets light weaved, hundred tongues
In unison sang, welling form emerged, Æleon
Rose before me, as I remembered him, now
Rock-hewn waterfall standing.
Chorus:
O! Cynara! Never cross sweet-flowing streams
Until prayers to Oxylos made, Archaic mountain
God. Gaze into deep-revealing flood, naked
Body washed in life-restoring pools. To enter
Holy springs unsanctified evoked ceaseless
Wrath: sight ever muddied, lips parched, by
Deceitful tears will children’s thirst be abated,
Fruits and fields sun-scorched.
At edge of singing springs, I released linen
Gown to feet, into flowing water, my bronzed
Breasts and chalice exposed to sun and sage.
Obedient, I knelt face-down amongst ferns,
Forehead to sage’s agéd feet, bathed-kissed,
Æleon in male form, personification of streams,
Anticipated my completion of purifying laves,
So stepped I into illusion-rippling pools.
Prayers to Oxylos I raised, hymns to gods
Archaic, customs foreign, children offering
Sweet melodies, love for Æleon, father, hus-
Band, bringer of seed to fertile cleft. As one
We merged, welling founts united, two waters
Self-coursing. Lo! Pain of death-separation
Assuaged; within time-fluid moments, my
Watery womb fulfilled, I was with child.
“So stepped I into illusion-rippling pools…” is
foreshadowing of time-cleaved destiny. Was
Cynara adequately prepared to cross [Oxylosian]
sweet-flowing streams?” Who is Oxylos?
Next is: “Part 3: Time-Cleaved Destiny.”