The Eleusinian Mysteries

All my life, I’ve had a mystical bent,
but I’ve never really had mystical experiences of any
kind. In my early college days,

I tried to study ancient Greek religion—
including the Dionysian cults—always eager
to look into the smoking cauldron. What was it

they had you stare into at Eleusis? Some strange
mirror? Somehow, you beheld the mystery.
Don’t tell anyone—it’s a secret!

Now join the others outside, shouting Mystics to the sea!
Now run down to the beach for some kind of
salty baptism ceremony! That’s all

I’ve ever been able to gather about
the Eleusinian Mysteries, which are also just one more thing
you have to recollect when you’re chasing down

the myriad beads of the big glob of mercury that was dropped
when you were marooned here—
the heavy head of Orpheus himself

floating down the river Styx singing
the pieces of you—
the people you meet, and the people you make.

I always felt that if I could inhabit the hearts
of the initiates at Eleusis, all my problems
would vanish, and I would be saved somehow,

but the anthropologists say nothing is known
about the Mysteries and exactly what
people experienced at them, preoccupied

as they were with their work, health, spouses, and kids—

some moment of clarity, presumably. But not just that.
They received eternal life!