In the swirling twirling oceans of dreamtime, the ancient lyre and chorus permeate astral plains.  Terpsichore, you appear in visions, melodies, and undiscovered dances.   In the absence of thunder, the gods swiftly descend Mount Olympus.  Lightning blinds us, but I trace the outline of the nine daughters of Zeus. Incandescent light floods all consciousness, a poet reading lines in an empty metropolis.

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Mt. Olympus

or Valhalla - love mythology ~allets