Ariadne
The daedal daughter once keeper of the maze,
born again unto these labyrinthine days,
enigma incarnate wrapped in sapient praise.
I have memories of memories of her,
from the ancient lands of frankincense and myrrh,
I’m enthralled by this curious whisperer.
A panacea sent from an ageless day,
I am in ataraxia that she may,
be the return of my sweet Ariadne.
I wrote this poem in the form of an Tuscan stornello. What if old souls are those who have been reincarnated..
Ambiance: The Host of Seraphim
