19 March 2017

‘Yes.  But perhaps
I don’t want to be a hero.
Perhaps I would rather
pass my days
reading the philosophers,
the poets.  I will let
someone else engage
the dragon.  Let the Golden
Fleece be their’s.  Battle bores me.
And rather than let the gods
decide my fate, I will.
I will sail way wide of Medea.
(Hera is not to be trusted.)
As for the Argo, it is
a fine ship, my men
who man it, fine men.
Yet, better that it be
a ship for pleasure sailing,
have the men enjoy the beauty
of the elements.  The burdens
of kingship are not my meat.
Power does not seduce me.
I do not wear the ego of a tyrant.
Had it been my decision?
I would not have sacrificed the ram,
in the first place.  Better that
his winged brilliance had been let to fly.
There are never too many lights in the sky
to our dark world.  Better the ram be
my guide, than a pile
of blackened bones.  No.
I will not take ship.
I will, instead, know on my lips
the golden syllables of the bards
who have brought men this far
across the sea of time.  I will
hymn wisdom with them,
instead of heaping the bones of men
on the pyre of earthly rule.’

Philip Kuepper
(1 March 2017)