A special elixir

The moment I step from the building and out into the dry, dazzling world, I behold a sea of olives undulating before me. It is a breath-taking panorama which stretches far as the eye can see. I could never grow weary of such a vista and I remain still for a few moments, breathing in the warm, sweet aura of tranquillity, giving thanks for the grace of the gods which brought me here to live my days.
Anyone who has been here understands that Holy Mount Parnassus is the closest place to Elysium on Earth. From it springs the fountain of all arts and poets, artists and musicians – devoted lovers of the Muses – all pay testament to the prophetic mouth of God that wields power and influence here.
The Sphinx which guards both the entrance to our temple and mysteries of the world is made of a warm-coloured stone. It blazes in the sun like fire and I incline my head as I walk past it down the gleaming marble steps, still surrounded by the monumental dedications of various cities.
It is not long before I have entered the walled kitchen yard, where I immediately see one of the Tetrarch’s slaves giving water to a package mule that is tethered to a small fig tree, already unburdened of the offerings he bore. My heart leaps for joy, breaking at once my serenity of mind and implacable demeanour. I am happy to see this faithful beast, for not only do I have quite some affection for the animal, but his owner is of the greatest interest to me as well.
His image appears at the front of my mind. Like rays of sun flooding into the Temple’s cool interior, it casts deep shadows into hidden places. The Tetrarch is the eldest son of the ageing Tagos of Thessaly, a great aristocrat of Greece. His tribe, the Aleudae of Larissa, was founder of the Amphictyonic League, one of the most powerful military forces in the world.
Now that Thessaly is the chief protector of Delphi, its surest and strongest ally, the Tetrarch – as leader of the cavalry – commands more respect than almost any other man who comes here. No other living man commands as much of my own respect as he does, except perhaps Cleisthenes of Sicyon.
The Tetrarch conducts much of his official business at the sanctuary, as do the governments of other city states, for all men come here to learn the secrets of Gods. There are also those who wish to meet with their muse, or listen to the poets, musicians, philosophers and other great men of this world share their inspiration.
I take a few moments to pet the placid animal, which is dozing peacefully in the dappled shade. His velvety-soft muzzle tickles my palm and he bows his head for me to scratch his dusty forelock at its peak. The warmth of the sun penetrates to my bones and for a moment I feel relaxed and carefree, as any other 19 year old girl on a halcyon summer’s day.
I do not intend to linger long, however, as my reason for being here is to prepare a special elixir for Timocrates, which will be used to facilitate his nightly travels through Psyche’s realm. Timocrates is a Saint of Delphi – one of the Thracids – and he has been my teacher and guardian for as long as I can remember. He is a highly learned man who is devoted to my education and well-being. I count myself fortunate it was him and not another the Gods decreed must raise me, for he has permitted me a degree of freedom that stricter Saints would not tolerate. I understand the value of this privilege and ensure the fruits of my mind are known to him alone amongst men, together with my lovely and graceful sisters, who are my dearest friends.
As the slave returns to wash the mule’s dust-caked flanks I make my way into the kitchen and examine a bundle of ingredients that were gathered on the seventh day of the moon. They are laid on top of a solid Myrtle-tree table, a gift to the sanctuary from Corinthian priests of Aphrodite. It is from these ingredients that I shall concoct the special elixir for my Earthly guardian.
Working steadily and also rather quickly, for it is a task I know well, I clean the plants and divide them into proportions, then place them together in a copper cauldron. I am vigilant about obtaining precise measurements for the preparation of such mixtures is a very exacting science.

Bridge of Twilight

Face to face and silver silence

Fills the spaces left between us.

In the mind our eyes will wander,

See therein love’s sweetest pleasure.

Nerves are bad – my tongue is frozen –

Still my heart is speaking volumes.

In our veins the blood grows warmer;

By degrees the sun gets nearer.

How can I make real what’s happened

There between us, in the dream world;

Lest we find a hidden moment

Just to slip within the ocean?

So, the truth– there’s no denying –

When I’m with you all is fading

To a pale, unfocused shadow,

Of itself, while you are shining

Like a star.

But I must hide this

thrill I feel

when you’re beside me.

When we meet I’ll give you kisses,

Brush each cheek in swift succession.

As my scent becomes your aura,

Both your arms could pull me closer.

Charismatic Rays just blind me,

Touch upon my racing heartbeat.

Hold me tight – I’ll melt in stages –

Sink into the sea of changes.

Now you know the slightest trigger

Might unleash a storm within me,

Bring us into new dimensions.

When we kissed I learned you simply

Make me whole.

Now I must wonder,

How can this be put asunder?

Maybe when the days have lengthened,

Reached a point – mid-summer’s evening –

We shall find ourselves reflected,

There – upon the bridge of twilight –

In the waters deep and tranquil,

Streams that mingle, once divided.

While I watch you speak my eyes fall

Down onto your mouth, as always;

Search your face and try to listen,

Try to stop myself from losing

All control.

I long to kiss you.

Both my lips are wet from wanting

You.

You feel the nervous tension

And it makes you want to draw me

Near –

Upon your knee, quite slowly,

Smile and laugh to soothe the tempest.

Throw your arm around my centre,

Cast a whisper in my shell-like

Ear,

And see the stars in my eyes;

See the way you rock me, world-wise.

Feel the way my thighs, relaxing,

Curve around your hips like liquid.

Then my arms uncoil, like vine leaves

Wind across your chest and shoulders.

As I breathe you feel me quiver –

Shake inside and out, get shivers –

Hairs on end are poised for action,

Secrets of this wild attraction

Are revealed.

At last you see me.

Now you know the love flies freely.

No more ghosts -our worlds, dissembled –

Merge as one while we just tremble.

One Golden Glance

I tarried not to tie my sandal shoe, but haste, post haste, through air my winged chariot flew

The Led display of the mobile phone revealed that it was almost one. She listened intently to the voice that came into her room via the radio. A drama was set to unfold, of that she could be sure; it seemed as if a kind of magic was taking place.

A gust of wind blew the window open with a bang and she jumped violently, shaken from her reverie by the sudden noise and rush of cool air. As he silently slipped inside she searched in vain the indigo space he left behind him. A magnificent aura had filled the room, sparkling like a billion shimmering flecks of silvery gold dust.

He watched while she turned her head north and south, seeking what – or whomsoever – had disturbed the rose-scented ether.

One golden glance of what should be.

She knew she was no longer alone, for a profound change had occurred in the atmosphere. Lush, electronic sounds swelled like waves and swept through her body and soul, as a deep history of time unfolded in his fathomless mind.

She was wearing gold-coloured sandals – shoes that were a gift from her father – and a midnight blue dress. Around her wrist was a bracelet full of charms and with his bright, ancient eyes, he saw that the necklace at her throat was made from the stuff of magic; a gift from her mystery-loving mother.

He had challenged the doors of time to reach her and the wait had seemed an eternity. 2,611 years had passed since she had been this close to him. On that occasion the moon had been perfectly halved by the shadow of the Earth. Jupiter, then, was at the same point in its orbit as it would be in precisely three and a half hours, that self-same night.