Risen from underworld into daylight,
hoping to steal beauty from Venus’s
sculpted pyxis, she faints in endless night’s
torpor. What can save her but Eros’s
care? His lithe arms lift her away to love’s
endless joy. No wonder savvy Plato
argues for immortality; voice of
Aristotle sings of three souls. Ego’s
Freud’s term for our force of conscious balance.
Jung cites der Seele to seal
the whole package.
William James feels we’re all saved when we dance.
I believe spirit lives within the page,
whether blank awaiting pen, or marked through
with phrases of praise, each describing you.
Roger Armbrust
September 17,
2013
