The Artemis Odyssey

I walk past the house of love,

where broken hearts were healed;

where souls quenched desire

deep into the night.

The house stood through the ages

in the city of Ephesus;

it opened its doors for the enemies

who plundered the place for its wealth.

My hand sweeps across

the ruins of the gravel wall —

a desire to be touched,

to fill the void within me.

I lie in bed; sleepless nights,

He never got it right, time after time;

kisses were never felt; we never walked

that extra mile, right from the start.

I pass by the remains of a temple

that once belonged to Artemis,

now burnt down, a price she paid

for attending the birth of Alexander the Great.

I’m at the church of Mary,

A woman appears from nowhere,

an opaque bottle in hand,

dressed in turquoise.

A virgin

in twiggy green laces,

she hands me

the bottle.

I uncork the lid —

scent of jasmine

morphs into the scent of camphor,

myrrh and frankincense.

It reminds me of the starry night

at the manger where the King was born,

as I stood there watching

the woman fade into the crowd.

Be Open Says;

Writers! Let’s be open!

Writers should take this!