“Now is the time:” a poem for a New Year

Now is the time

Tell the king the fair-built house has fallen.

The fountains now are silent. The voice is stilled.

Echoes sound through the centuries.

I peel a strip of bark from an ancient tree

and feel the slick of the sap upon my skin.

I write a short poem on a dry beech leaf,

a prayer only whispered,

and trust my yearning words to the wind:

Now is the time to hear again.

I toss a silver coin into the well

and listen for the water’s embrace,

tuning my ear in the silence.

The oracles have not gone away.

They are waiting, hoping for the day

to break a new.

Stuart

1/1/2024

**The opening lines are the last recorded message sent from the Oracle of Delphi in the 4th century.