Gavdos, The Calypso's Dream

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Times have decorated Kalypso's island with the elegant grave gifts made out of stone, cedar and sand, scented with oregano and savory.

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A night walk inland of the island comes close to the boundaries of volatile when the body loses gravity and worries and lets itself to that mythical view, that Kalypso offers.

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Nature in its first form, with thousands of architectural details organized in the universe's chaos, which lead to the whole ablatively and automatically, without being conquested from the lustful technology traps and the culture • with some corners, untouched forts from progress's name. 

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It΄s loyal friends, the winds, along with the storms of Liviko protect, as much as they can, the island from the technological disaster that has already started leaving it΄s prints there. 

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Untouched lands, sunk at time΄s oblivion, testimony the Minoic and the Roman culture that co-lived with her.

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Sometimes raging, rock herself, is carved from the rain and Graigos (wind name).

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Sometimes sorrowful, like leaning olive trees, looks at political exiles, who wrestled with rock, rock that it΄s own body gave birth to it΄s own most ancient substance. 

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The rock that unwillingly tortures the free and the thinkers, leading it΄s ideas at the rocky worlds of Sisifos, to get rid of evil΄s blossom, which never tasted.

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At night, when it calms down, it tastes the Orionas΄s love, it gets naked in Milkyway and dresses its body with all the stars, without the lights of the world, without the memory of it΄s existence.

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The silent walks at Roman paths, naked body that pulses at pine trees and becomes wild at Kedres, a little child that tries to grab the moon in between the stone houses of Vatsiana, at the leaves of the forest or as it mirrors on the foamy waves.

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Sometimes it searches for Ulysses, night's bird that cries out and  Serios comforts it at the end of the summer.  

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Now it is trying to forget about wondering Ulysses with the Minoic carmine at hands, the Roman greatcoat on the body and the ripped conch with the red star.

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It tries to refuse the title of its exile  ''death's island’'.

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It greets, dizzy from the intoxication, the nature-loving travelers who enjoy the dreamy beaches, live or used to live the Greek dream around the night fires with a guitar on hands and the class conscience buried in the sand.

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