The Woman Who Never Smiled
Waiting alone at the airport station, a train becomes a giant underground darkness worm; its single eye glowing brighter as it inches its way towards the end of the track. A Cyclops steel worm. Sicily is the home of Homer’s Cyclops. On this new airport train you can’t open the windows but on the old trains windows can be opened, and young men can kiss sweethearts goodbye. While waiting for the train to leave for Santa Flavia, a young man standing on the platform, leapt and gripped and hung on to the partly opened window and kissed his sweetheart goodbye. She sat opposite me and we passed apartment blocks and setting sun lit orange and lemon groves on the way to Santa Flavia. Nearing Palermo, a trickle of passengers begin to board. A teenager; studs and vinyl, and retro West Side Story hairstyle, looks like she’s had a long day. She alights before Palermo. Palermo’s, night – time via Roma is deserted and strangely familiar, reminiscent of the main street of the town where I grew up. My map says I won’t have to carry my bags far until I find Julie – Anne’s. Arriving in March, Easter is early this year. I anticipate it will be cold up in the mountains at night.
Easter Sunday follows the first full moon after the spring equinox. The moon waxes, becomes full, wanes, disappears for three days, then returns. The moon gave promise of life after death and in Old Europe moon goddesses, like Mother Goddesses, shared in the mysteries of regeneration and renewal. Then, during the Bronze Age, divinities acquired masculine features, and Mother Goddesses acquired a consort / lover / son.