Bellerophon

Belerophon, on winged horse,

galloped on air, a hero

fast as Hermes, brave as Hector.

He borrowed grace as he borrowed speed.

It was impossible

not to look at him,

and looking, impossible

not to smile,

or sigh.

He rode the skies, and we earthbound

saw joy, and threw

our dreams for him to carry.

If anyone could storm Olympus,

it would be this proud and lovely

youth upon this mount.

No. There are places

where one must be invited.

Pegasus stalled, the hero toppled,

Olympus remained a place to see in dream.

Awkward on his unused, dusty feet,

he walks the earth alone, unrecognized,

while we plain folk scan skies,

and hope again to glimpse

our hero with the fabled horse,

galloping on air,

Bellerophon.

 

 

Aeon

Wind sweeps the grass

in the high places. Pan's pipes call,

but only virgin ears can catch

the notes entire.

Immortals don't count time, but tears.

It is his tears which warble

now in song, yet no one comes

to dance and ages pass.

Offering solace, music imitates joy,

an uncompleted song if no one hears.

Lines form in the smiles, and is that fear

in his green eyes? Will waiting be forever?

Her arrival, hesitant and rapt,

stops breath, is breath, rends time.

 

 

He Hunted Diana

Diana, who when looked upon

with lust, would turn the man

into a stag, and hunt him down.

Secure in your own beauty, you think

to stalk the virgin goddess,

knowing that I swore

before immortal friends

to kill the man who dared

to see me as a quarry or a prize.

After I turn blazing eyes against you,

will your graceful form

be echoed in the stag?

Will it not seem strange

to travel on four legs,

toss a head now horned?

My enchanted arrow,

will make a its path

into your transformed body

through the ribs and heart,

a shaft of light.

Will you pass

from this sweet world as brave

as you have courted death this day?

Will you find the realms

beyond the grave more apt

to grant you pleasure

than the one you leave?

Do you feel the shadow of another world,

as you gaze upon me now?

Perhaps someone you leave behind will grieve,

for you are beautiful, and brave.

Probably someone loves you,

someone you left this morning,

when you came to stalk

Diana in her woods.