Crete

Where the known world gets smaller
and exploration becomes
a valid career choice.

Where the surrounding islands
silhouette a mysterious calling
to make this feel like the mainland.

Where mountains peek
Monroe heights and Sahara heats

merely a fathom from the shore,

rocky and peppered with olive groves.

Where the black sands

of the southern beach

of Preveli scald your soles

and the pink-white shells

of the deserted Chrissi Island

draw breathe in stark contrast.

Where the green hew of northern rocks,

outlined with clean salty foam

are surrounded by the depths

of transparency and turquoise.

Where the raki is freely given

to oil the joints of the evening

and ease the passing to tomorrow.

Where the country lanes

smell like sour goats

whose bells chime a native melody

to echo across scorched hills.

Where gracious attitudes

let time pass at its own pace,

leaving rich tourists uneasily

glancing at expensive watches.

Where narrow streets are

populated with playful cats

who feed from the pity of

the taverna's daily customers.

Where the Heraklion taxis ignore

the architecture of concentrated history

and rush from lights to lights.

Where our passports were not checked

as we entered Grecian soil,

and no one was there to care

if we had anything to declare.

Where moments are measured in waves,

in shrimps and swordfish,

in raki and wine,

in olives and cheese,

and the slow steps of cliff top strolls,

and the centuries have passed as such.

In September I married my beautiful Silje. We went to Crete for our Honeymoon and tried to experience as much of the Island as possible. We had the time of our lives! The Island is so beautiful and there is such a relaxed and appreciative atmosphere there. The food is so wonderful we had to ask several people how they make everything so good. Every answer was related to olives, or olive oil. 

I began writing this poem while in a small crevice of a cliff of the northern coast of Crete, near Agia Pelagia (a small town with the highest concentration of beachside seafood restaurants I have ever seen!) while Silje was taking photographs of the ocean and the cliffs. I have tried to express the different aspects Crete that we love so much. 

The poem doesn't do the Island justice.