"Modesty," William-Adlophe Bouguereau, 1902, WikiArt photo.
“Modesty,” William-Adlophe Bouguereau, 1902, WikiArt photo.

Mist shrouded Pindus Mountains, timeless
And forgotten, moss-covered ruins, spring
Welling from living stone, clear waters
Trickling since antiquity, burial place of
Ancients, patriarchs of Greek Bronze Age,
Granite blocks fallen into ascending path-
Ways, attracting Shepherdess Dioné.

“Here we are,” rippling waters stated. “We
Are there,” echoed windy spruces. “In times
Of strife we come, in peace recede,” water
And wind in unison spoke, trees swaying,
Light flickering within translucent mist, eye
Catching, heart beckoning, on bended knee,
Dioné approached timbered temple doors.

Sentient light of present and past, cosmical
Voices spoke to Dioné’s mind, “As guardians
Of this time-lost temple, we come as deific
Genius, commanding not, but oracular and
Guiding, misfortune preventing for those
Mindful of our words.” Ages passed before
Dioné’s eyes, birth and end of earthly eras.

“Who are you, Lord?” Dioné asked. “We are
‘Arch of Heaven,’ many speaking on one:
Janus or Jana, Dianus or Diana,” mercurial
Voices said, sex and treble conjoined to suit
Her plaint mind. “Wind-ethereal voices you
Have heard, searching on high pastures for
Us, within your heart, divine light resides.”

Portals groaned, admittance given, Dioné
Entered revolving light and time, maiden’s
Breasts burning, visions of disease and
Famine, field beasts dying, crops and groves
Sun-scorched, refuge of Pindus Mountains,
Healing waters of holy temple, placating
Ancient gods, decade of destruction.

"Shepherd and His Flock," Charles Jacque, 1875, WikiArt photo.
“Shepherd and His Flock,” Charles Jacque, 1875, WikiArt photo.

Beneath high-orbed sun, Dioné strove into
Pindus valleys of shepherd kin and clans,
Guided by ancients, their timeless bones
Resonating all things visible and unseen,
Face burnished divine, her mind feathered
Arrow shaft, Dioné’s genius spoke, veiled
Voices guiding and protecting.

According to Socrates…
“You have often heard me speak of an oracle or sign
which comes to me… This sign I have had ever since
I was a child. The sign is a voice which comes to me
and always forbids me to do something which I am
going to do, but never commands me to do anything,
and…stands in the way of my being a politician.”
Plato, “Apology of Socrates,” 40 b.

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