Once

Once I was strong.

Heracles with heated hands

clapped me on the back

and called me brother

and I did not fall.

The battle, once begun,

assured the victory won,

and I was sure

that every heartbeat that remained

would continue to beat

only in my name.

 

Once I laughed

the laughter of the wine

and of the harvest

Reaping on a Mabon’s eve

Bacchus lustily turned to me

and asked how goes the vine

and in our state of merriment

I didn’t quite know what he meant

but told him that the play

was going fine

 

Once Saturn’s bold surety

offered time’s true guarantee

that time is what we make

and who we make it with

but Jupiter, his boldest son

whispered to me the deeds soon done

and like a chastened child,

I stepped aside

For who can battle wind

with just a scythe?

 

Once only shifting trends

and god-like ends could sway

this mythic heart, replete,

yet empty still

and I danced, and cursed

and drank and fought

But in my youth forgot

the greater truth in Venus’ admonitions-

that life alone is soon a dark derision

and resigned to moments made

and moments lost

and chances passed,

I look at the results of my decisions

 

and though I thought I lived a life

to equal forty lives of man

I see the truth, too late,

in steps untrod

empty passion can’t contend

with quiet moments, in the end

and my journeys have but hid

a heart unthawed.

 

Had I only known you when I was a god…

 

© Copyright 2008, Monica Rae Stover