is a dee-
said he to the owl.
Detail you say? That which lies hidden in the most covert Corner, crevice, or cranny. In those blurry blooming flowers (for I am farsighted) By the valley, where Narcissus lies eternally. Or perhaps in the depths of
heartbroken cry, To he who will listen to naught. You wish to know The intricacies, the aspects of truth That struck even Tiresias of Thebes blind?
Or, perhaps you seek the truth behind Paris’ judgement.
The detail, woven intricately into
weave, or Immersed in the secrets of her success: Of hated Odysseus, of Jason, Heracles. The layers of fate, those concealed, and those unveiled. Her origin, her clarion cry of war. The start, and the Forever, that which defines us, Dee-tail, you ask for me to define? Detail,
derived from ‘odussomai’
- the one who is hated/wrathful
"...and pealed to the broad sky her clarion cry of war. And Ouranos trembled to hear, and Mother Gaia..." (Pindar,
Seventh Olympian Ode