April 1, 2014

Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne

Bernini Daphne and Apollo

Daphne is fleeing Apollo –
and her face is an open book of terror.
She’d rather be a laurel tree
than live the captive life
of an object of once passionate pursuit.
Apollo’s hand slips around her waist,
her abdomen already transitioning to bark,
yet through the wood he feels in her gut
her beating, throbbing heart,
and he, his passion a misdirected vector,
could not care less.  Look at his face.
His focus is the hunt, the game, while
her fingers become leaves, her arms, branches.
The transformation is a meditation.

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Author: Raymond Maxwell

https://raymmaxx.wordpress.com/ Librarian, retired foreign service manager and former naval officer. Strong interests in information architecture, instructional design, critical pedagogy, taxonomies and metadata management, information governance, and cultural heritage preservation.

4 thoughts on “April 1, 2014”

  1. An arrow, bent, lies tossed upon the floor
    Of old wood planks within the wood-smoked walls.
    A slipper lies, forgotten, near the door;
    Outside, the evening snow begins to fall.

    A fire flares upon it’s iron grate;
    A fresh-killed deer turns on the fire’s spit.
    The hunter sleeps so lightly while she waits,
    No movement seen beneath her pale, closed lids.

    Upon the hearth, an open book is burning.
    She must have set it there before she slept.
    It shows a young man’s likeness in the gloaming.
    Why is it that the woman hasn’t wept?

    Whose body did that arrow lately slay?
    The hunter sleeps, her troubles far away.

    Liked by 1 person

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