Erat Ibi Vita
Selfless sheep make way
for the river Styx... make way.
Born of her seeded shores,
"The river Liffey," he yells and laughing
Petals drip delight--
Spellbound, the howling storms brew,
but no rain tonight.
Mercy, sweet mercy,
descending floods understanding, love.
And here stands Hercules, boldly
Cracked earth and pottery.
Where are your heroic nightmares now?
Ages of memory beneath our walking feet,
these shreds of breath
near the bedside.
Strung laces curl out through the morning clouds.
All the birded-songs scurry oaken breeze
and dewy pine.
The lulling skies seek and squeeze
every beam of brightness out
against the corners of my overflowing
face and eyes.
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