The Athonite

[busker]

The Athonite


Prometheus, they say, was bound
on one of the mountains that marked
the northern border between
civilization and barbarity.

Halkidiki, perhaps, was too near
to the Hellenic heartland
for possessing one such peak, 

but I imagine the fire he stole
through a single stalk of fennel
from the wheels of his cousin the Sun
was first employed to heat up
a ragged samovar,

brewing tea for Father Silouan
while his friends, like the Titan those nights
when the wings of the eagle that fed 
on his liver were tucked to leave open
his view of the sky, observed
the stars.

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(My last LPIA thing, and the one that seems most....tantalizing. I don't really know what to make of it -- the title is essentially a placeholder)

For me, the part above in bold is brilliant and memorable.
I’m not quite sure what to make of the anachronisms in the poem.
Or why father silouan represents enlightenment. If that is what’s being implied.
The poem seems to be making a point, but it eludes me