A Thousand Faces

Moly

Ἐλευθερία

Trickster of myriad masks,
he slips identities like weak knots,
shifting from moment to moment
like Ithaca’s wily dissembler,
chanting fugitive prayers,
uttering epigrammatic profundities,
ever adapting to the perilous voyage,
plotting a course toward home.
Groaning, he gasps out words,
evading the spear-point’s bronze,
close calls with angry men and gods.
Things are more than they seem.
Cats bark. Cassowaries purr.
Canaries grumble. Seals fly.
Like a demented chameleon
he can’t remember his true color.
Every told tale true in the instant,
instants of truth that fall away
at every stroke upon life’s ocean,
pulling toward the harbor of today.

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