Poem: Eyes familiar in many faces
Eyes familiar in many faces
Bishop I am in mouflon forest
scion of the beheaded priest
who led the rebellion
Zenon I became in calm waters
and travelling merchant
to the further places
As teenagers we once met
on Balkan battlefields
with boyhood aggression
that no promise of comfort
can contain
In being George I did
what my name demands
with grit that culture builds
the wilderness to pacify
the conditions to set
for there to be another bishop