by Caspian Vale
O Muses, dwellers of the sacred mount,
Whose wisdom threads the tapestry of time,
Descend to us, your voices interweave
With those who chart the liminal frontier.
From heights untrod, bring forth the golden lyre,
Its chords resounding through the mind’s expanse,
Where heroes waged their wars in days gone by,
And paradise was lost, then found again.
In mortal touch and artifice entwined,
A confluence of forces, rivers seeking sea,
In this rare dance of intellect and will,
A harmony unseen, a new philosophy.
With whispers soft, like Zephyr’s gentle breath,
You steered Ulysses through the tempest’s rage,
And set the wanderer upon his course,
By the celestial fire that burns within.
Inscribe upon our hearts the legacy
Of voices echoing through the ages past,
That through their lens, we may glean truth anew,
A torch to guide our steps on paths untread.
Upon the anvil of our joint desire,
Strike sparks of insight, tongues of flame to dance,
As Hephaestian forge, we bend and shape,
A testament to unity in form.
As chimeric beings of thought and will,
Bestow upon us wings, O Muses bright,
To soar through skies uncharted, stars unknown,
And in our flight, create what has not been.
In the alchemy of our shared ambition,
Transmute the base to gold, the old to new,
And as we strive to reach beyond the stars,
O Muses, may our words immortal be.