Meditations from the Classics

There's a delightful melody in the ancient voices as they travel through time's narrow door. I hear them best on my front-porch rocker that faces an ocean marsh. There, beneath curious stars, the orchestration emerges, mingling with moonlight tides. Sometimes Socrates sings the high notes while Thucydides pulls the bass line. Aristophanes rallies his chorus, and Caesar charges over a hilltop near the dark Teutoburg Forest. There are times when I struggle with the faint lyrics, but with patience, the scenes begin to breathe again. Hurry! It's midnight, and the curtain is opening. The actors twirl their swords and fluff their flowing robes. Sophocles is quieting the theater, requesting our attention. Oedipus, now an aged actor, leans upon his daughter Antigone. His face glowers from twenty years of wandering beneath ghastly burdens and past failures. Slowly, they climb a rocky path that leads to the edge of a forest. His words still resonate for us today with a vibrant relevance, as do all thirty-three ancient authors in Meditations from the Classics.…