Skala Eresou

To swim in the sea where Sappho might have swum, 

To spy the fishes nibbling in the sand, 

To listen on the whisper of the wind 

For words she might have spoken in a dream, 

Or sung in liquid tones while she would strum 

The strings of her tuned instrument, a stream 

Of feeling, both intensely personal 

And somehow, thereby, strangely universal. 

I know, from a fragment, she walked along this beach. 

The languid waves pulse on without a rest. 

The horizon hovers, always out of reach. 

A boundless longing lived within her breast. 

We have new gods from those that went before, 

But what has changed within our deep heart's core?