Hope

All-gifted, all-giving, the gods did provoke,

Relinquished the right, them so to invoke.

Promethean crime, aid for mankind, aroused ire,

Retribution, from gods owning fire.

First woman among us, moulded from earth,

Bestowed by all deities, heavenly blessed.

But cursed by the gifts duality knows.

Determination, Zeus overthrows.

A gift bearing ills in a jar or a box,

Pandora relents and evil unlocks.

But hope still remains for good or for ill

Perception is all when hope does instil

Belief in the story of why god would choose

A mixture of gifts, some evil to use.

Is hope then a curse to action instead

Or essence to reflect on when life’s all but dead?

My hope is a blessing, that hope is a gift,

Enabling souls to elevate, to lift,

When all feels too empty, like box opened wide.

Let hope be the light that remains still inside.

candle 3

 

Magpies

One Magpie.

She’s knifed,

Gutted,

Heart ripped out

And devoured.

Pecked at,

Grown back,

Ripped out again.

No eagle

For Promethean

Growth.

A magpie theft,

Stealing silver

And gold.

Golden age

Gone.

One magpie

Alights

To wound again.

 

Two Magpies.

They’re happy now.

Birds in flight

Together.

Bound by

Token

Offering.

Flight discharging

Winged wonder,

Bowing in the air,

Curtsy to earth.

Trajectory

Established,

Plumed to dark

And light.

Elevating,

Floating

Oblivious,

Tied.