Simeon Harper has always been troubled. Recurring dreams leave him restless. Precocious as a child, adults were always wary of him because he was more erudite than they. Now, in middle-age, his restlessness never ceases as he sees himself as a child picking eyebright flowers every year, from his thirteenth birthday, to give to the mysterious Abaris that Simeon converses with in his dreams. Abaris tells Simeon that he will collect the flowers one day and he will reveal the truth of existence. Is this all a figment of Simeon's imagination as the Harper's only son Alexander is killed in a road accident? Simeon cannot think straight as he tells Penny he spoke with Abaris when he was just a few hours old. I have included an extract from the play. 

Abaris:  Man, such a debased creature, is born from the endless night. Leaving the warmth of the still waters when he seeks the first glimmer of consciousness as his eyelids flicker, he searches for the pearl. I closed my eyes and actually heard the whispering breath the lifeless child attempted. My eyes are similar, as though he saw with the spectrum of one who had touched many lives. The mind is a prisoner of consciousness until there are functions given to its sensations and perceptions. My figure, amorphous, blanches as it conforms to the level plane of existence that is called time. Did little Simeon understand that the life force resides in the heart when he took the breath of god? He is allowed a little blandishment because the sky god was still worshipped in so desultory a fashion. He had fortune on his side because he would have been an imbecile if he had not listened to me as I converse with you. His brain was infinite, swollen by the rivers of antiquity that belonged to the dead. Its regeneration was down to me. The course of blood was reanimated and the tribulations of your pathetic existence, of which I was to play a major role, was about to commence. The creed of your superiority would be your disgrace, Simeon. Your mother is in pain as you are disgorged in blood. Do not be frightened of me when first I speak with you, child. Can you smell the sweetness of the air? The sun does not deceive my eye as the white eaglet espies me. Another birth takes place. The afterbirth is taken from the wailing bodies of Romulus and Remus. The she-wolf and the woodpecker nursed the babes after the death of the daughter of Numitor who had given birth to them. Hear their laughter as the she-wolf licks their bodies, Simeon. Their safety was never in doubt for they were under the patronage of Mars. They will become pacifiers and destroyers. The darkness of their womb does not perturb them. I am the only face they see, as I stare at you, as their blindness has not ceased within the cavern of the Lupercale, on which the Palatine will witness such triumphs. They see the world when it was young and the gods could intervene in human matters. The world, if it ever existed, is a cocoon that evolves continuously. . .

Simeon coughs, wailing, as he gasps for breath.

Simeon:   I heard your rumblings. What incarnation are you?

Abaris:   Such wisdom from one so young. Your vowels are of the uneducated. Do you recall where the letters and numbers of man were first written?

Simeon:  In the arch of heaven.  I speak with the Anglo-Saxon brogue and there is little wrong with that. Their vowels are not as many as the pure Greek tongue.  Is it over?

Abaris:    Very nearly. They just have to sever your navel string. There will be such adventures that await you. I whispered something to you before you awoke.

Simeon:   I did not appreciate the irony as I saw Hector’s bruised body being dragged by the chariot.

Abaris:    The implication being?

Simeon:    That Homer’s version of events is nothing to do with conflict; it is about the travails of a soul awaiting its rebirth. This is the lowest form of life and I will not be able to converse with those unseen. What will happen to me when I become used to this existence?

Abaris:    There are ways to overcome this predicament, Simeon.

Simeon:   Even if I am asleep, I will still be able to perceive you, Abaris?

Abaris:    Certainly. One will discover the divine self when you reach adulthood and the revelation will be complete. Do not sleep yet. I have much to impart.

Simeon:   I am three hours old and I speak as if I am an old man like Proteus. If I weep, will you be melancholic for Simeon? Remind me of the age old stories when I am alone and dying.

Abaris:     I caught your last tear before your rebirth, Simeon. Lengthening shadows will not hide you from me when you are vexatious. Perhaps you should rest. I will stay with you and see that you come to no harm. . .