Mnemosyne, give me succour;
the present and its impulsions haunt me;
and your voice is my only friend.
Your whispers are my shelter;
your speeches my hearth;
your visions my hiding-place.
Mother Mnemosyne,
look after me; shield me from Today;
give me this day Yesterday’s truth,
and I will overlook the transgressions of the Present.

~*~

Mnemosyne, spare me;
spare me your hushed admonitions in my mind’s ear;
spare me your exhortations, your proddings and pokings;
you are air to me; invisibly cool on my tongue;
forever present; you envelop me;
I would I could escape you;
but you surround me, like a cage fashioned
of air and spirit and mystery.
Abandon your cruelties; return to me with your goldwoven tales.

— Finn Gardiner, artist, writer, science lover, scholar and human rights activist in San Francisco, California. He may be reached at sodalitas.paludis@googlemail.com