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.