adamdaniel

Lotophagi Indulgence

On the island known as Djerba,
Girt by paradisic coast,
Lived the stately Lotophagi,
And of lotus dreams they’d boast.

We can find a glut of silence,
Where the din of day is done,
By the flower of the lotus,
Which dost prosper in the sun.

All along the bending river,
Where the water lily floats,
We collect the precious stamens,
In the pockets of our coats.

We prepare them in a cauldron,
Brewing up a heady soup,
Then enjoy the preparation,
As an esoteric troupe.

We ingest the drink together,
Casting off the grip of fear,
Melding into moonlit shadows,
In a reverie so dear.

For the flower is a gateway,
Like the puissant poppy seed,
That delivers us a torpor,
To ingratiate our need.

For we walk away from warfare,
And we hate the guns that blast,
Seeking only God’s forgiveness,
By the lotus bloom repast.

So we drink our fill of magic,
And awake with languid eyes,
Neath the starlight ever beaming,
Knowing death in soft reprise.

For we die a death of wonder,
By the lily we withdraw,
Through the seal of slumber’s keeping,
To a paradisic shore.

I invite you with me, stranger,
To recapture aeons past,
By the banks of sweet Medjerda,
With her majesty so vast.

I will be your guiding angel,
With my wings about your frame,
Keeping safety on your person,
As you seek the silent flame,

It is womblike, it is silent,
It is heaven-gifted bliss,
It is rapture from the tragic,
Aye, a sweet seraphic kiss.

It’s a gorgeous inundation,
In the baths that lull the mind,
Shedding off the skin of sadness,
And the mouths of men unkind.

You will hold the hand of Hades,
In his underworld of mist,
But it trumps the bully daylight,
And the terrors that persist.

I will see you swimming calmly,
In the deeps, where freedom flows,
Knowing silken satisfaction,
In the torpid undertows.

Here’s the cup, my cherished brother,
Here’s the drink that sets you free,
Take thy first initiation,
In this precious mystery…