Alive Ruins


The spirit,
the soul,
your choice,
absorbs sentient recitals,
some conscious,
others of latency in waiting.

To visit Delos ruins
where fallen ancient marble cloisters
baking in centuries-old sun
give witness to marbled nakedness
reclined in grass-protected embrace
like chaste lovers of the mind.

Tourist-fresh olives
become perfect companions,
alongside locally-aged wine
for that pause among history’s headstones
of shadowy sandals and toga-clad whisperings of ancient philosophy
destined to continue echoing such inaugurals
onto book-bound pages.

Wisdom’s shameless lovers in stone continue unadorned,
their resolute columns hastening further sips
of wine’s contemplative patience,
urging the mind’s thirst be at one with the grass growing
among the tenacious fallen and crumbling remnants of discovery…

still to come.