Delphi (poem)

AT DELPHI

© Jane Piirto. All Rights Reserved

“For prophecy is a madness, and the prophetess at Delphi and the priestesses at Dodona when out of their senses have conferred great benefits on Hellas, both in public and private life, but when in their senses few or none.” Plato: Phaedrus

the grave dignity

of ancient pillars

Apollo’s spirit

wants coin offerings

thus it was

thus it is

the breath inside earth

cold fire deep within streams forth to the air

listen! pilgrims call

to the middle-aged

oracle. hers is

Eros’ clear dispatch

on ancient stone ruins

Oracle murmurs

her enigmatic cries

her intuition’s

metamorphosis

among spring’s poppies

purple yellow spills

grapes, olives, white buds

lombardy tumble

slight creaking of moans

walk holy pine groves

steep as those tea leaves

clear as crystal balls

the probe to the World’s

Navel from the hive

halcyon sun climb

winds the sacred path

The way to the truth?

a delicate moan

a click of insects

hot insight at noon

proclaims the giddy

watercolor sign

What is your question?

The Oracle says

her eyes in her trance

lit with butterflies.

we wait, quite cautious

as if this really were

a therapist’s room

reply  in the age old way

What is your answer?