Dictean Cave

Argh!  What a courtroom man’s wretched life be

Where sentence be issued most speedily.

Yea this courtroom be a Dictean Cave,

Where enters lone monk with ritual shave.

In grotto of peculiar placelessness,

They worship Creator in faceless bliss.

But in cavernous chamber of stone heart

Doth labyrinthine thoughts make him depart

Like Zeus from Rhea, like child from womb

He springs forth from darkness

From tomb to tomb

His conception conceives his patricide

In war for soul rule man hath judge defied

Father’s seed did breed son’s strong denial

And hence made son the judge of his trial

Underworld nor afterworld rules his soul

Twas God’s choice man be Themis’ equal

And balance in his small pan of science

The weight of judgement and defiance

No weight as uneven burden doth quell

Yet man ‘lone be the fulcrum of this scale

Copyright Eric Wasiolek 1975 as an Excerpt

from my poem "The Silent Judge"