Leonard Cohen was an island (part 1)

So, inevitably,

our mountain village addresses a valley

and Mediterranean bay.

The water’s blue attenuates

and blurs the broader lines—

disturbed horizon, skies erased.

There is no border, only hue — 

reminding me of Hydra and Cohen landed there.

Romanticism maybe —

a key, a house, an island;

ten years of intensity

with loving, drugs and song.

A novel or two, then

throw your typer in the sea.

‘Bohemian’ we say;

but he found some ancient sense,

a drawing basic pilgrimage,

a riddling on this island too.

Alignment with the mode of myth

expressed in depth and light 

that rinsed Homeric eyes

in time, those eyes, all time.

Cohen was a poet after all,

he was simply tuning

those older iterations.

A mode of search perhaps, desire:

what you see you then become.

In this light,

what here can be envisioned

is not that far removed:

the past becomes the now,

the myth ascends the muse.

                                           (Cyprus 2017)