syrinx and I were tangled in water weeds

Tale of Pan and Syrinx:

Pan was hunting near Nonacris when he saw a a beautiful nymph, called, Syrinx. Syrinx had pledged vows of chastity and fled his unwanted advances. After reaching the Ladon River, Syrinx realized that she would not be able to cross the river without help. She prayed desperately to the water spirits for help in her escape. The nymphs heard her pleas, and in a flash, Syrinx's body was transformed and hidden among the plants growing by the flowing water. Pan arrived at the river's edge only to find marsh reeds murmuring in the wind. Knowing that these reeds had been the lovely Syrinx, grief-stricken Pan plucked a handful, cut them into various lengths and fastened them together with wax. Bringing the reed instrument to his lips, he played a plaintive song on his new pipe, which he named syrinx in honor of his escaped beloved.

Whom or what have you escaped? Name your river.

Psyche Dreamed of Poetry

Psyche dreamed of poetry.

Text Message to Jacques Derrida from Ovid

Tonight, I was musing on the fate of the Nymph, Echo who lost her own voice and was forced to repeat the words of others. I think that to some degree this is the fate of all of us. I mean think about it, what person or thing did you echo today?

Derrida suggests in this intriguing little video I found on uTube, that "Echo is able to appropriate Narcissus in such a way that he becomes her, in a sense." When we are in love with someone and blindly reflect back their persona to them, aren't we in effect doing the same thing?

In Ovid, Metamorphoses III we are told, "her name is Echo; she always answer back."

Does She? Do We?
What will enable us to find our own voice/identity?
Derrida interprets the myth as the juxtaposition of two blind people loving each other. How can they? How can we, who cannot see, make our way in the journey of self that we call love?

Psyche and Cupid

Psyche dreamed of poetry.

Aubade

This is a picture of Aurora, the Roman Goddess of the Dawn and it inspired me to write my poem. An Aubade is traditionally understood as a poem written immediately upon awakening from sleep.

Have you written one?