DELPHIC ORACLE

The Oracle is gone.
She has left the rocks as prophets.

They know the yellow
of the sun's sour heat. What trees drink.

The immovable rocks are spewing forth
their nonsense; I'll interpret.

They are disgusted by the lack of air.
They await the rebirth of breath.

Sounding voices
of the nations of the world.

They understand every tongue.
They speak the silence between languages.

Sweeping away the dirt from your grave,
I touch the granite above your bones.

In the valley of Delphi,
you came back to die.

You loved the fabric of this land.
Wove your own cloth
of light and myth.

You are not the Oracle,
although your seed
is buried with her.

I have so many questions,
if I started to ask, I would
also lie down forever.

Live as these rocks live.
See the future they see.