Springing Up: Hades Speaks
by Corbie Petulengro
The sun blinds me
As it seeps down through this door
To the upper world, the brown fields waiting
In hushed anticipation for your touch.
The snow will melt beneath your steps,
Tender green uncurling from your footprints
And I will not be there
To see it.
(I had a pomegranate tree,
nothing would it bear
but a love deeper than the ocean
and a fate I could not share....)
I seduced you in darkness,
Stole you from your life and duties
And the truth was, no matter what they say
In shocked whispers on Olympus
You did not give even a token resistance...
I lavished my wealth on you,
Decorated you with gems and cobwebs,
Crossed my fingers that they could make you forget
The living garlands of the upper world.
(...the Queen of Earth's daughter
came to be with me
and all for the sake
of the ghosts she could not see.)
But your mother and mine
Are not friends; she went before the Lords
Of Fate and begged for your return.
You were borne for this destiny, to be the wind
Of change that blows fine and free into wintered lives
Of spring storm and the green scent of wet earth
Of rebirth-
How could I possibly hope
To stop the turning of the seasons?
And she from whose dark womb I had sprung stood by
And did not interfere.
Did she choose you for my bride
Arrange the marriage
Send me to ravish you
Only to teach me loss and humility?
I told myself the bargain,
If not fair,
Was at least necessary.....
You told me it was not forever,
You did not understand
That in order to live in some state other than
Constant aching anticipation
I must live as if it was.......
The sun blinds me
As I watch you ascend to the new dawn-
Your destiny draws you out
While mine clutches at the hem of my robe, whispering
Whispering like dry bones rubbing together
That kindle only dark fire.
And I did not know how much
Pain would lance me
Seeing you run as joyfully back to her
(That goddess who bore you
And gave you your name)
As once you had run joyfully into my arms,
My hands black with the soot of a thousand cremations
Your hair something of sunrise and something of clay
And something of waving poppy blooms...
...And maybe you waved back once
At the threshold of dawn
And maybe you did not - I will never know
Because the sun had blinded me
Or had it just been tears............
Artwork by WolfAnita.