Stay, Kalliopê, teach us how to listen
How to hear the epic story of the world
Take down the words the winds carry
Remind us events are shaped by the Gods
Breathed by poets, only recorded
In living creatures, one word after the other
The spirit is in everything
In love and fear and heartbreak
In sorrow and pain and in pride
After all, it is the mortal way
That no expense is ever spared
To remind our selves of that
We were taught to avoid the epic
Better to work the short subject, care not
For the grains of sand, the stars in the sky
For understanding the mass graves
We were taught that the unlimited kills
And works destruction upon the infinite
Every moment is part of a great story
It does not evade your close interest
Take papyrus and sharpened stylus
Mix your ink and wine, come closer
Breathe your best, welcome the dawn
Make it done what you promised.
teach us how to listen and how to get a beautiful voice like yours Rob!
ReplyDeleteThank you for listening, dear Béatrice.
DeleteWow. Yes, we were taught to avoid the epic, but the epic is full of everything: life, death, the tragedy of hubris and the frolicking of untameable gods.
ReplyDeleteYes, Susan, and the epic is all of us.
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