Synæsthesia

The moon shed a fine blue light on the woods and fields
It trembles through her labyrinthine hair
Darkness deepens
Coming out from behind the trees
Up through the fields
Shadows lengthened and joined together
And I thought it looked like water
Coming up through the ground
Rising slowly up and through
Not unlike the sea weaving a path through all in its way
Then ever so slowly, early morning struck the eastern parapet
Infusing its whitewashed rim with an almost electric glow
Rose-coloured, rays descend until they struck him too
Warming as it moved from colour to clarity
Till it begins to progress silverly
Around the western border of the wood
Whence, from a certain spot, its winding flood
Seems at the distance like a crescent moon
The choice of Apollo
The Cephallonian cult
By all the trembling mazes that she ran
Hear us, great Pan!
Most and the least mysterious
Most inexplicable to those who have never been to the island
And the most inevitable to those who know it
Apollo, the god associated with the power of light
Strangers who land here are blinded for two days
This is a light that seems unmediated, either by the air or by the stratosphere
Overwhelming clarity of focus
Heroic strength and brilliance
She exposes these colours
In their original prelapsarian state
As though straight from the imagination of God in his youngest days
When he still believed that all was good
Azure and turquoise, emerald, veridian, and lapis lazuli
The eye of a goat, semi-precious, half way between amber and arylide
The youngest and greenest shoots of grass in the original Eden
Once your eyes have adjusted to the extreme vestal chastity of this light
The light of any other place is miserable and dank by comparison
It is nothing more than something to see by
A disappointment, a blemish
Even her sea is easier to see through than the air of any other place
A man may float in the water watching the distant sea bed
Clearly visible the lubugrious rays, accompanied by diminutive oceanids
The first grey light began gathering faintly
And then as the light built the mountains, they begin to form themselves
Retaining the dark of night in their bulk
The fog that clung to the peaks lifts, and lost are the shapes of the highest most crests
And dissipated in the warmth of the morning
In the pasture the forms of trees remained drawn in dew on the grass beneath them
In the shallows of the bay, where the sea was calm
They do not see the naked sky
Sun pours down like honey saturating everything she touches
Leaving us fancy-sick
My restless spirit never could endure
To brood so long upon one luxury
A shell for Neptune's goblet
She doth soar
So passionately bright, my dazzled soul
Again I looked, and, O ye deities
Who from Olympus watch our destinies
This said, they rose, faint-smiling like stars
Through winter mists, and take their hand
They stept into the boat, and launched from land

Elysium

Still unravished groom of quietness, of silence and slow time
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme
What legend haunt about thy shape
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter
Therefore, ye soft pipes, play on
Not to the sensual ear, but more endeared
Pipe to the spirit deities of tone
Fair youth beneath the trees, thou cannot leave

He had reached the island which lay afar
He climbs to shore
Finds a bed of olive bushes
Putting leaves over himself
He falls asleep
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare
Bold lover, never grieve
We cannot fade
For ever wilt thou love, and be fair
Your leaves never bid the spring adieu
Happy melodist unwearied
Piping songs forever new
Then forth from the violent sea he came to land
And went his way until he came to a great cave
Wherein dwelt the dark-tressed nymph
And he found her within
A great fire was burning on the hearth
And from afar over the isle there was a fragrance of cleft cedar and juniper
As they burned; but she within was singing with a sweet voice
And right there about the hollow cave ran trailing a garden vine
In pride of its prime, richly laden with clusters
And fountains four in a row were flowing with bright water hard by one another
Turned one this way, one that
And round about soft meadows of violets and parsley were blooming
More happy love! 

More happy, happy love!
Forever warm and still to be enjoyed
Forever panting, and forever young
Who whispers to him so pantingly and close?
His sweet sister of all those lives
His friend, the dearest
Hushing signs she made
And breathed a sister's sorrow to persuade
A yielding up, a cradling on her care
Her eloquence did breathe away the curse
She led him, like some midnight spirit nurse
Of happy changes in emphatic dreams

Eastern Spell

Before
I was exploring
Not interested in learning about myself
As much as I was eager to cram in all the wildness
Every decision seemed drenched in dark glamour
Oh and I hope I'm not going too fast for you
She is syrup, gold and light
Not too fast for you
Yes, I will be thy priestess, and build a fane
In some untrodden region of my mind
Where branched thoughts, new grown with pleasant pain
Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind
Far, far around shall those dark clustered trees
Fledge the wild ridged mountains steep by steep
And there by zephyrs, streams, and birds, and bees
And in the midst of this wide quietness
A rosy sanctuary will I dress
With the wreathed trellis
With buds, and bells
And stars without a name
With all the fancy gardener could feign
Who breeding glowers, will never breed the same
And there shall be for thee all soft delight
That shadowy thought can win
A bright torch, and a casement ope at night
To let the warm love in
Secret sounds of giant sea birds
Singing songs of lonesome sailors
Golden cats in temples only knowing
That the spell of time is his

O god, life is strange!

I love you my brother