Ghost Of Athena

Ghost Of Athena
© Surazeus
2024 03 09

Each brown leaf that falls from oak of my heart 
must represent another human being 
whose life and death, somewhere on planet Earth, 
would constitute as obvious metaphor 
cycle of continual change and decay 
which all organic creatures experience. 

I laugh when Orpheus says this to me 
as we stroll path to peak of Helicon, 
so he strums lyre and sings in silent woods, 
revered Athena, renowned and beloved, 
you haunt the secret caves in human hearts 
and dwell on wind-swept mountaintops of hope. 

Then pausing halfway up to paradise, 
Orpheus stares through branches of old trees 
at verdant valleys cluttered with vast cities, 
and sighs as he mumbles under his breath, 
I have walked this world for millions of years, 
observing humans struggling against gods. 

Once hairless monkeys, swinging in fruit trees, 
the ones with shorter tails came down to play 
in ocean waves with horses to kill serpents, 
then wise Athena from her mountain cave 
taught men how to forge and pull swords from stones, 
so they built empires on worshipping gods. 

Ghost of Athena wanders in oak groves 
where only tortured poets go to dream 
and write their magic spells with raven quill 
and blood of dragons as ink for their verse 
to lament tragedy of human life 
as Truth Seekers brew blessings from the curse. 

Sharp cry of sorrow startles both of us 
from nostalgic revery of our past, 
so we run to shore of the River Styx 
where Ophelia, clutching herbs and flowers, 
sinks in despair of bitter memories 
while singing with heartbreak of failed romance. 

Diving into murky waters of fear, 
Orpheus bears Ophelia from despair, 
and breathes fresh spirit of hope in her heart 
as they make love among bee-haunted flowers, 
then hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, 
through Eden stroll their solitary way. 

Suckling cute baby Hamlet at her breast, 
Ophelia sits by statue of Athena 
and hums moon-eerie melody of faith 
while Orpheus strums lyre and sings new hymns 
as I transcribe his words on golden plates, 
then groan when an apple falls on my head.