Narcissus gazes at a crystal phantom,
becomes one with it, losing himself.
Argus, proxy for a jealous spouse,
trains his hundred eyes on Io;
later, transformed into a peacock,
he cannot find himself in any mirror.
A raven spies Coronis with her lover
then tells Apollo; as she is killed,
he changes from white to black …
Those who merely observe, often betray;
those who see only themselves, see no-one.
Dear Muse, show me the sacred stream
which holds and shapes reflections truly,
offering vision to the heart, passion
to the mind; whose transparency we enter,
knowing ourselves, knowing the other;
feeling the pull between source and sea.
Support me in those healing waters,
plummet me one depth more than I can bear;
give me aspiration, give me tranquillity;
give me the nerve to fail, the curiosity
to go on and on and on …
In short, Calliope, let it happen.
© Diane Fahey