The eternal marble of Ephesus bleeds its essence into turquoise etherscapes of thought,
The essence of her poetry and myths, distilled into lucid streams of midnight,
Watching from cloud kissed, amphitheater steps,
I see the minds of her poets, in golden clouds, emblazoned like star fire,
And drifting in delicate swells across the ruby sunrise,
The Akashic Records buried in purple galactic reaches
recall the Mysteries sung by the poets of Ephesus,
From this amphitheater high,
Sweet Aegean summerland sits before me,
The mysts of time swirling through marble streets, round ornate colonnades,
borne by the morning wind past the Aegean shore,
gathering in a vortex o'er the wine-dark sea,
These mysts of Ephesus dawn embolden the poet within,
Rending the veil of illusion from our eyes,
Revealing to us Elysium's sweet, enchanted fields.
