MediumThere is no lust, just peace. A maternal female, her gaze lost in the distance above the waves. A Naiad, her spring pouring fresh water under her body. A lazy Mediterranean sky above. Her own power flowing into the ever changing ocean of our lives. Music around, maybe Debussy. A cold glass of wine. Sicily, or a Greek island. The sea. She softly whispers a short poem, Alcaeus’. Otherwise. An Aegean island, on a lazy hot summer afternoon. A spring, water flowing on polished rocks. No music, no sounds, just the waves and the wind. There is nobody else, imagination alone. Everywhere the Greeks settled, their simple presence changed forever the landscapes. Nymphs, satyrs and Gods.