It all starts, and ends, with the Styx
Bursting forth from high up in the rock face,
Plunging-floating in a shaft of light
Pushing aside the air with hammers and wedges
Tumbling faster than it can run
Thundering into the pool.



It flows quietly now
And a naiad lives in the river,
Inseparable from the water and whispering
Secrets to the Pythia from a cleft,
Naiad flowing beneath the omphalos of the world,
Whispering to the priestess seated in her tripod,
A caldron of water and sprigs of laurel on her lap,
And the suppliants listen for the Pythia’s hexameters.

As we await our allotted time in the sulfurous adyton,
We mingle before the temple,
Then I see on the edge of the crowd,
The earth still falling from his clothes,
My son, standing in an alcove of cypress.
Embracing him is to hold a spirit in my arms,
But he unfolds a letter
And points to a straight line:
“This is a ray of light —
I am evolving into a particle of light,
A flash upon your retina,
Where I will travel to your brain,
And you will interpret me.
Look for me, I will be everywhere at once.
I am becoming now…
I am becoming…”

He told me “The Styx falls
Like the downpour of a storm,
And pillars of lightning race down the rock,
And set fire to oaks. Listen then
To my voice for news of my world,
For in the flash I am with you,
And afterwards I twist in the current
Like the naiad’s tresses,
And once in the sea I am on the dolphin’s back,
Sounding into blue water and breaching in sunlit spray,
I will flow under Thessaly
And again over the cliff at Chelmos —
Watch the Egyptian vultures,
They will announce me with flights of black and gold,
As I tumble earthward
I will speak a few words to you,
And this will be your life,
By the waterfall waiting.”

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October 16th, 2006