I touch your skin, hoping to go deeper still…
I touch your soul…
Hoping to ignite blood into fire.
The fragility of life,
The moment he died,
I didn’t know what death could do,
How it would turn animated flesh into dust.
I watched his breath escape him.
I watched my father die in my arms with one wish,
To go to Santorini with me before he passed.
He never made it.
So I went after he passed away,
And got up early one morning with camera in hand to capture sun rays
Emerging through passing clouds after rainfall across a timeless island.
So much has changed since then.
So if you want to go,
If you want to catch rays of light
and paint with them infinite possibilities,
Enjoy this moment through my eyes,
Oh goodness, my Goddess!
Of course it was intended for you, even if I had not intended it for you, LoL.
Are you not the governess of a chariot, and I your passenger? So fasten the straps and let us ride, shall we?
Our Quantum Quest still Quietly Quivers since that Quintessential moment when we discovered Q in Central Park, in search of Faust’s love, through the poem you read riding in the back of a yellow cab… Tell me, how was Germania? Have I pulled a golden arrow from my Quiver? Shhh!
Yes, but still to this day revelations deeper than you recognize haunt my thoughts…
For you see, years ago while in undergrad studio, on a rainy afternoon I was mourning Penthesila’s death by Exekias; and I fell asleep reading of that tragic moment, and had three strange dreams.
In each dream a word, three words in all, was revealed to me: Soho, Latigo, and Apobathos – Apobathos?!
I searched all these years to find the meaning of the third word to solve the riddle in my dreams, but to no avail.
But finally, last night, quietly and unceremoniously the riddle was crystallized. It occurred to me that the Apobathos I was searching was in fact Apobates. And the random words came together:
Latigo, Apobates, Soho!
So Goddess, Your Grace, I will ride on your chariot to my conQuest of the Grail, if so it pleases thee…
Where shall we meet? By water’s edge, of course! Why water? Nay, not for fertility, but for the fertile unconscious, for water and watery depths carry the substrate of conscious act on oceans teaming with unconscious portent.
My Dear A,
It was a pleasure having you this eventide.
Thank you for taking the time to join us on our Sunday’s adventure.
I must inform you that our Council is charged with a mission close to my heart, tis of devoted faith…
Whilst I cannot guarantee you safe passage, nor promise you great wealth,
I can tell you this, for twill illuminate the way ahead:
If you wish to ride with us as knight
From dawn’s light to depth of night,
And if you wish to draw sword
And watch dark turn to light,
If you wish to tremble in faith’s sight,
And move mountains to heights greater than doubt’s fright,
If you wish to stand on precipice of fear and bask in love’s might,
Then I offer you a chalice brimmed with delight.
Would you drink of it and join us in this flight,
But only off passion’s wings to our destined appoint must you alight.
If your answer be yea, then in the morning we must ride…
My Dear Apobates,
Tighten the latigo, shout soho, for the prize is at hand!
The sands of Arabia gleam of gold, from here to Samarkand.