"Psyche," William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1894, WikiArt photo.
“Psyche,” William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1894, WikiArt photo.

On this crisp December morn, winter
Solstice near, I ventured to ocean shores,
Place of my creation by gods who knew
My heart, dancing sea-lights gathered
From the firmament of night stars. Alas!
My astral light is dimmed by towering
Ships and flashing channel markers.

Instead of hilltop warning fires of ages
Past, lighthouses shine brightly from
Ocean’s edge, revolving beams visible
Miles away. Absent are Ægean net fishers
Who sought Nereid wave-glow, guiding
Them to steer another course, avoiding
Low-tide exposed rocks and shoals.

On sandy isthmus, nearby lighthouse
Illuminates grassy dunes, yet I cast no
Shadow, as I am spirit without benefit
Of body, moving arms and legs. Thus,
I must cling close to those who know
And love me, who permit brief merging
To convey my storied verses.

Yes, I hear music of these seashores,
Refrains of familiar realms, recalling
Roar of oceans strong. On quiet nights,
Whilst waves slumbered in pale moon-
Light, Ægean Sea nereids raised hymns
To starry skies, prayers for fishers on
Choppy seas at night.

Sixth poem of this series, Thera is reckoning with
here and now, as she is far removed from Ægean
Seas of Greek antiquity. Gentle sea-breeze muse,
Thera spends her days with or near me. At times,
her memories are fragmentary as fleeting images
come and go.

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