Ode To Sappho
Ode to Sappho
Do you ever wonder that which you seek for might not exist?
That only in your sweetest dreams you will find at most small glimpses of it.
Your wildest thoughts are only vapory figures that are not real.
What you felt and tried to share will never be understood by those around you.
All you wish for will slip through your fingers like water running over a dam.
That like Sappho, only small fragments of you will exist.
In a far flung future your words, your thoughts will be jumbled.
Eager eyes will try to discern what you meant to convey so long ago.
That zealots will have burned and deliberately tried to hide your works.
Those who did not agree with you exiled you from that which you loved.
That the very words and phrases you sweated over in anguish are gone.
It will all be destroyed by time, man and the endless woes of the universe.
What you wrote will be gone forever never to be seen again by human eyes.
It will have no meaning and be lost among the rotting, festering debris.
Your thoughts will be strewn carelessly at the bottom of the chasm of time.
My words do not sing like Sappho's did from that time long ago.
Her phrases rang out in song that which she felt and thought.
To have seen through her eyes is one of my greatest and grandest wishes.
Feeling what she felt, breathing deep the fragrances in her world.
Oh, that my hand was her hand as she wrote the words that are now lost.
Copyright © Hillard Sarver | Year Posted 2016
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