Agora

Sacred memory, a philosopher

Expounded on the nature of creation:

Through him it was taught that heaven exists,

Populated by objects with such power

That to cut a sliver from a flawless stone there

Will cleave abysses deeper than all hopes.

Some time later there was a gathering,

(Protested tradition like a wave rolling in).

Thick words like mortar bleeding through the streets,

The sky a furnace (to hold in the prayers).

On that grey and cloudless day they spoke of Gold.

“Immutable,” said one. “Pure as diamonds are!”

In a moment like the tide, the salt scent heavy,

A trembling man stood and uttered heresies.

He said:

“If by this I offend the universe,

I will bear the punishment of the stars,

But yesterday I saw the soul of gold

And it was dancing in a woman’s hair.

"One color? One essence? No, it was infinite,

A number that was real until the counting,

A vial of sand that told of more than time-

I grasped at her tresses (Oh, blasphemy,

To menace all the statues of the gods,

To sunder to naught the bonds of wedlock…)

"But what I touched? A mere breeze! The aether!

I saw her no longer. Did laurel emerge?

No! Then my touch would caress sharpened bark,

I would have the splinters to prove her spell,

Not linger here alone, like Icarus in flight…”

Did he have more to say? It is truly unknown.

Those noble men of the forum, righteous

In their anger, they flayed him there

With stone knives from their belts.

Orthodoxy.