Birthing Aeneas

By Christine Ghezzo

 

With the curve of jeweled ankles,

And gold twists of hair,

I seduced mortal Anchises

In a field of no shadows.

 

Aeneas was birthed

Into sun and sage.

Offspring of Aphrodite

And earth,

With eyes of dawn

Feet as light and quick as

Sparrow wings.

A straddler of dimensions.

 

Legends are told of his battles and death,

But his was not the soul of a warrior,

 

And so,

the Gods granted me permission

To anoint him as bringer of light.

An immortal messenger

Carried by wind,

waves,

sound,

prayer,

 

breath.

 

You can hear him

Singing though cypress branches in Sardegna,

Or temple bells in Korea.

 

See his reflection

In windows of skyscrapers,

On painted monastery walls of Moldova.

 

Feel him,

In the waters of Greece,

Or within the arms of a lover.

 

He is there

reminding you that you are all reflections

of eachother.

Separated only by degrees

of language

and generations.

 

He is asking you to recognize a prayer,

Regardless of the name of God.

 

He is asking you to walk

to the bridge he built,

 

And to cross it.

 

Copyright©Christine Ghezzo, 2003