ΠΑΡΑ ΙΩΑΝΝΗΝ

From what we have heard, so as we shall see:

At the beginning a word came to life -

A life which shone in the dark of my head.

It pressed against the back of my eyes,

And lulled me into foggy delusion;

Like Orpheus' lyre chanting a sweet dirge

For to lay to rest my bodily sight.

Thick haze ebbs around a drooping flower,

Windows glow with residue of time past:

The last of things became the first,

And yet they know not whence the light will come. 

As I laid to rest my oft remiss shade,

Forth it broke - blossoming as tiny shards -

And tore to strips my feeble innards

[as my form in this world is ever changing,

so too does the backdrop disintegrate]

From musk to dusk and ashes to ashes.