Conversing with the Acropolis

I’ve always had a strange relationship with the Acropolis.
Yesterday I woke up and had this strange need to go there. Not on the Acropolis herself, but somewhere close by. So I climbed up on the Filopapou where, as we all know, we can see the Parthenon “fatsa karta.”
Now, have I not seen her a guzillion times before? I have. Why is it that every time it’s like a fresh new time?
I don’t know.
So, I sat on a rock, lit a cigarette and listened to Pallantios’ “Hymn to the Acropolis.”
The strange thing is that, yet again, I found myself having a conversation with her. I knew she was listening.
A few years ago, I was close by again, in a state that I could not begin to describe. I remember asking her, or rather begging her in tears, for something I needed to happen. By the time I got home, I literally found what I wanted waiting for me by my doorstep. She had already responded.
Yesterday, I said to her, “you know what? You listened to me before. Listen to me again. I am sitting here looking at you, listening to hymns written for you. What else do you want? Offerings? The only thing I can offer you is my gratitude. Help me again!”
And you know what?
She did!