So small was

your earth clod

thrown out of Argo,

it crawled into a tectonic hole —

the hole is black,

tears the cyan —

you came up for air,

we didn’t breathe a word.
Now you swell and swirl,

you erupt till you burn

to obsidian hopping on archipelago.

Love fears of you

so love dreams of you,

builts houses and poleis for you

and crowds them so full

to awe your loveliness.
Calliste, half-moon Calliste, don’t tremble,

we cannot love you any less.



Seismic tremors rattle Santorini as Greeks fear a big earthquake. Santorini is indeed a volcanic island and I’ve been thinking about

the myth of her creation. One of the Argonauts, Euphemus, dreamed of making love to the sea-nymph Calliste (meaning “the

most beautiful”). In his dream Calliste became pregnant with his child and asked him to throw a clod of earth into the sea to

create a safe place for her to give birth; as Argo was sailing, Euphemus threw a clod of earth and an island emerged. He called this

half-moon shaped island Calliste (modern name Santorini).