How do I reach the past?
Concrete and real, antiquity existed beyond
Abstract creation, beyond the historian’s
Pen. Our mind’s movie, now an overarching
Lens, sees through eyes
In the back of our heads:
A forest deep rooted, its trees enclosed and
Embellished with bark—
Hercules grew stronger with time.
Above the trees, clouds take shape of figures once told,
Their stories formed from winds
That passed through lungs, then lips—
Spoken shadows block the sun.
For leaves and clouds are eyelids to omniscience.
The glowing truth of Hercules is now
A myth, weakened by historical science, which holds
Ideals of empiricism and Descartes’ indubitable truth.
What vague discoveries will tomorrow bring?
Will Hercules’ be strong again?
I ask, once more,
How do I reach the past?
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