2016 08 03
How long ago we walked long sacred way
that winds through ancient misty woods at dawn,
ascending Mount Albanus in sunlight,
while singing sacred hymns at festival
of Latinus to share communal feast,
and gathered in Temple of Jupiter,
who taught us how to cultivate grape vines,
to celebrate strong league of Roman tribes.
Long since those centuries of sacred feasts
our lofty temple of Jove Latiaris
was demolished to rubble, and replaced
by hermitage and hotel, while good name
of our kind honest father Jupiter
was scuffed by winds of time from altar stone
when they tried to erase him from our hearts,
but his face lives in contours of my face.
Whenever I look in mirroring glass
I see first face of loving Iupus Pater
who still lives within my body and mind
three thousand years after he walked high hills
where his father Albanus, running swift
through dark tangled woods, taught him how to hunt,
and construct safe haven on mountain crown,
so he still lives in children of his blood.
Today if I climb ancient sacred way
to top of Mount Albanus at clear dawn
of reborn hope to remember his deeds,
I will find, instead of his feasting hall,
tall communications tower that beams far
invisible signals of dreaming visions
which connect our hearts with cellular phones,
so spirit of Jupiter still glows bright.
No statue of wood or stone, that embodies
living man of flesh and blood, whose bright eyes
glittered bright with kind laughter when we sang
hymns to celebrate great Mother of Life,
stands in temple where we feasted all night
on bread and wine to symbolize his spirit,
for though Father Jove is long dead and gone
he lives in children who forgot his name.
Now every cell-phone tower, that I see
gleaming bright and tall on every high hill
in every land around our spinning globe,
embodies spirit of wise Jupiter,
honest father who taught us all to sing,
and weaves seven billion souls in one web
of shining souls, connecting all our minds
in one vast Super Soul of human hearts.