“Reclining Model,” Albert Joseph Moore,” circa 1873, WikiArt.

Part 1: Marble Sleeping Girl Discovered

Ancient monuments of extinct peoples, their
Culture lost, weathered marble altar, sleeping
adolescent girl, time entwined, inscription
Written in three languages, best deciphered:
“By reminisce knowledge is retained.” “Let
Them sleep,” my mother, Iliona, said of me,
Cosimia. Vines ensnared round arms, legs,
Neck strangling, disturbing sight, we pulled
And cut, half-buried, broken fluted columns
Exposed, small tholos temple from archaic
Ages, name stone hand-carved: “Aprilia.”

Sunlight bathed, stained drapery in gentle
folds, warming marble child slept, before we
Walked away, I kissed pale cheek, whispering
“I love you.” Thick spruces round us wind-
Rustling, forgotten forces awakened, body
Move-moaned, veined stone liquid, rosy flesh
Mingled, sleeping girl awakened, first words,
Breath gasping, “Am I resurrected? Am I all
Here?” “Who are you child?” mother asked,
Marble girl eyes blinking. “Aprilia,” she
Answered, feeling for legs and feet.

Chorus:
O! Aprilia, what secrets do you know, conceal?
Resurrection’s child, are you truth and light
Revealed? How immortal gods have blessed
You, all senses perceived, ideas and ideals,
Earthly and abstract. Yes, appearing as waking
Female youth, time-enshrouded, taking myriad
Forms: innate knowledge, understanding,
Learning, wisdom, forgotten now remembered,
Elated joys, pained sufferings, all history in
Dark clutches holds. Know this Deific One:
All things memory mingled shall not be
Separated, so say farsighted gods.

“If shattered pieces are not attached in waking
Moments, they are lost forever,” Aprilia said,
Relieved after decades slumbering, she was
Not defaced, broken, for as we learned, others
Like her, were not so fortunate, pieces stolen,
By stone and hammer blows, arms and legs
Destroyed, life awakened or death-ended,
Not in resurrection divine, but fractured-face
Disfigurement. Intact-relieved, Aprilia revealed
Her time-suspended purpose, “I am knowledge,
Memory, repository of lost cultures, languages.”

“Pansies,” Albert Joseph Moore, circa 1875, WikiArt.

Alas! Warm tears down-streaming rosy cheeks,
Aprilia realized, “All those I knew are dead. How
Long did I sleep?” Such answers we knew not,
Revelations heavy upon her heart, she followed
Us unclothed, barefoot, modest drape upon her
Torso given. Yet all things she sensed along
Our path, childlike innocence, flowered sunlit
Mountain meadows, face, lips embracing bright
Petals. Lo! Aprilia empathized with grassy
Sleeping stones, as if she were akin, in sweet
Affection, how she laid herself upon them.

Derived from re-reading classical texts, Plato and responses of Delphic oracles,
poetry of Cosimia emerged from dark, distant past, rites and rituals of ancient
gods, beliefs continuing in present day. Thanks for reading first poem of 2018.

Written whilst listening to “2049” from “Blade Runner 2049” original motion
picture soundtrack by Hans Zimmer and Benhamin Wallfisch. (I played “2049”
on two devices, one playing a second or two behind the other. Interesting effect.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_FAF_v87Qw 

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