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| Triumph of a King, the Standard of Ur. c.2700 B.C. |
This is a time between times,
those unforgiving boundaries of life.
The world is new,
as it can be
when the eyes open to a different morning.
It is five thousand years
since I first came to these shores,
the ships spent, the crews dying,
“We are the People of the western Sun, masters of the great Sea”
is written on the stone foundations of my white city.
Although I am reborn by the will of man
again and again,
although I still come to the place where we built the God’s temple
now half-reclaimed by the sea,
I no longer pray
and no one ever offers a sacrifice.
This once, I find her there.
Is she one of the virgins thrown from the highest cliff, long ago?
Is she an offering
being returned alive by the winds and the waves?
I take the God’s gift in my hands and make it mine,
no questions, no answers.
No regrets?
When I set her free
there are tears and sorrow eyes,
but without a farewell she flies away.
JSR
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