Forever Savage:

Crete sits, 

a smile beneath the blue,

surrounded by the water, 

gentle ripples

from the past into the future;

the golden sun remembers it all, 

paints a picture so clear we forget the truth.

Crete sits, 

pleasantly it seems now,

It’s rocky head and sandy lips 

in the lap of the Goddess, 

her waters

and warmth creating the paradise

so clear the past can be enjoyed.

Through the tides a of history, 

Crete swims,

powerful arms, 

tanned, intense, rolling over and over;

Croatian stories kick the water clear,

ancient marathon swimmer who shadows

the many curves of the Mediterranean.

Straddling Crete, 

the shadow present still,

echoes of the past, 

ripples, plaintive voices;

the Minotaur stands, strong as ever,

the dark maze that lures us always back
into the savage territory of our own hearts.