Ascend through asphodel,

Through the world's light,

Diffusing cumulative shadows,

Through the planes of burn and forest,

Flight thrice unfolded,

Containing the universal speech,

Releasing Logos, a beginning fountained.

Reach for the immaculate phrases,

A turn of the mind's tongue into

Soundless arias, virtual vision

Of the child of God.

There is a point of constriction,

Centre of the encompassed cross,

A blinding singularity of peace,

Wherein lies the river,

Twice-turning, fluid avatar,

Floating, liquid path

Of half-imagined memory,

That crystallizes reverie,

And awakens from meditative somnolence

Into the gate of the dream of the rose.

Solar fields bound the

White, stone pillars below blue eminence,

The meadows of the sky,

Beyond sand and the star-filled sea,

Where is the wandering philosopher,

Lost from sword heights

And the wave-curled mourning.

Bones of the old gods,

The old temples,

Ramble through the shallows

Of the equatorial oceans,

Far from the beaches of crushed shell

And sculpted, green glass,

Blurred fragments of a labyrinthine epiphany.

An alphabet hones its silence, [a shadow]

Encrusted in melancholy beside the sun's disk,

Fused to the hands of uncertain dream.

Focus on the bright monuments,

On the ships of flood and running flame,

All deserted to the inheritors of submersion,

To the escape into Hellenic observation.

Beyond the pure face of ancient saint,

She lies, liquid eyes dormant,

Marble revenant arisen, reborn,

Expressing the reality of transcendent space,

Of time past in living memorial,

She becomes fair opening to

A clarity of spirit.