Part 1: Sanguineous Presence
Sister’s running screams, faces fear-pale,
Stone ghost appeared, water-trickling, blood
Dripping, writhing rock-imprisoned soul.
“What was it?” I, Cosimia asked, three frantic
Voices answered: moon-maiden, mother,
Sorceress. Sights witnessed, thus interpreted,
Real or pliant minds imagined, trespassed
Into Œtean forbidden forests, dismissed by
Shepherd parents, darkness now unveiled.
Days nothing untoward, three shepherd-
Family girls, music of moving bells, sunny
Mountain meadows, labours learnt, herding,
Birthing, wandering sheep fold returning,
Until dreams awakened, nights entranced,
Mother finding beds cold-empty, sisters,
Walking hillside-ascending paths, parents
Calling, “Myrina, Thyia, Dione.” Shreds of
Thistle-torn gowns, lost to wooded depths.
Amongst blanket folds, Thyia’s bed, stone
With bloodstain found, fillet-laced straw
Doll with Myrina. Hidden beneath Dione’s
Bed, charcoal animal drawings revealed.
“By ancient forces they have been touched,”
I stated, rather than saying violated to
Distraught parents, nomadic tribes, daughter’s
Minds, no doubt coerced, sanguineous
Presence within stonewall awakening.
Crazed crone we sought, rocky path to animal
Skull-encircled hovel, sight dimmed on mortal
Earth, her mind alighted to celestial mysteries.
“How should we address you, Wise One?” I
Asked, head bowed, parents safe-distance
Watching, rancid smoke, stench of fat-bubbling
Boiling bones. “What is it you seek, my name
Not your concern.” Sisters’ totems I placed
Before her, unspeaking pallid stares, agate
Amulet clutched to withered breast.
Three sisters, three totems, related to three rock-face
images: stone ghost, water-trickling, blood dripping.
Thanks for reading.