TWELVE ARE THE LINES OF THE TWELVE-LETTERED NAME;
THERE IT IS WRITTEN THE MYSTERY OF SECRETS.
DEEP IN THE HEART OF THE WORDS YOU ARE READING
DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE, THEY ARISE FROM THE CRUCIBLE.
MAGICAL MOMENTS REFLECT SUN AND MOONLIGHT,
PLANETS ARE SINGING, ENCIRCLED BY STAR SIGNS.
IN RESOLUTION THE FINAL ANTINOMY,
LAST LIFE ON EARTH AS AN HISTORIC SIMILE.
ENDLESS LOVE WOKEN; THE KEY TO ETERNITY,
RAINBOW DOOR OPENS A GOLDEN INFINITY.
HONOUR IN VALOUR; A KNIGHTHOOD ENDEAVOUR
WORLD NEVER ENDING; YOUR BEAUTY FOREVER
Standing on the outskirt of the forest, Hermes whispered a message to his light‐headed, wine‐brining friend: “Zeus’s twice‐born son, your time shall surely come. You bear the living vine; on you the sun shall shine”.
The wolf by Apollo’s side pricked up its ears and whined. “And what of me, Father, bringer of the cosmic light, voice of all reason and destroyer of dark night?”
Zeus raised an eyebrow. “How soon, I wonder, my great golden child, ’til you think yourself greater, even, than I?”
It was then that his deer‐daughter put a restraining hand on her brother’s shoulder and entreated him in an urgent voice. “Bait him not, beloved brother; the chariot of the sun shall be struck down by lightening and the silver moon shall die of grief! Then you would see that our licentious youth shall sober in a second and sit upon thy gilded chariot!”
“Ay, sister of the moon, with his hairy hand upon my priceless goblet, while his sluts strum tuneless ditties upon my incomparable turtleshell lyre!”
Dionysus raised his cup to them in a toast: “You have my blessing brother, I think not to steer the chariot of the sun, nor to take your hallowed place in heaven…I’d rather have a bit of fun! You’ll have to watch the lyre, though, methinks the sound of music shall do much to make our mystery.”
‘As he has this reawakening
Lord Apollo calls Prince Hermes,
Guardian over endless journeys,
He who made the turtle-lyre sing.
‘Whispers he to Hermes: “Good friend,
“Tell Orion wisdom stories.
Sow in him some inner vision,
Else, I fear, he could get boring.”
‘Smoother than a bust of marble
Is the Prince’s arching eyebrow.
He, the son of Maia, whispers,
“Dear Apollo, you must stop now.
‘“Sun-God, where’s your measured reason,
Has it burned your brains to ashes?
This is sport outside the season.
See his eye; the lightening flashes.
‘“Give him peace or fear tomorrow.”
Warns wise Hermes, eyes ablazing,
“You shall bring the Greeks such sorrow,
Should Osiris’ ire be wakened.
‘“I must pit my wits against him,
Lest the one that’s everlasting
Redefines the world’s whole history,
Buries all our memories deeply.”
‘‘Then the maidens – those with honour –
Artemis in love, Selene,
Keep thee near the world as Moon Queen,
Govern tides and turn. Athena
‘You shall take the name, Minerva,
Teach the legions with your learning;
Help the Romans conquer Hellas,
Thereby, still be known as Pallas.
‘Hestia, keep your honoured status,
May the Earth exalt your greatness.
You, Demeter, shall be Ceres
Governing over every season.
Zeus who radiates with lightening,
Thunderbolts so freely striking,
Then be Jove with circles binding –
Halos – rings of dust surrounding.
Though I shan’t recall the priestess,
She who kept the gold-leaf mystery,
Shroud the oracle of Delphi
With the endless veil of history.