To rest and to be

Wind tears at my jacket as cars rush past. I hear Hermes laugh with the people holding on to the bars as I step onto the bus and find a seat opposite to Zeus and the stranger whose name I'll never know.

Hera cradles a baby to calmness again as the exhausted mother argues with the daycare on the phone. The baby reaches one hand up and tugs at the pearls on her golden necklace.

Notes of an accordion ring through the passage way. The musician stands next to a hat on the ground. Apollon grins wide and shakes more money out of his sleeves than my wallet holds. I stand next to him and listen for a while.

Artemis walks through the park with her dogs without any leashes. They look at her as her feet glide silently over the earth, practiced by her hunting skills. She smiles when a little girl looks at her and stops to let her pet the dogs.

There's Dionysos in the laughter of my colleagues as they exchange stories about their weekend. He waves with a wide grin and tells us of a rave that'll happen the next town over. We'll come if he'll be there.

I had a few days off because of a very, very important event.

Why couldn't I change my sweatshirt for six days? Why couldn't I brush my hair for four days? Why couldn't I brush my teeth for five days?

Praise to the unyielding devotees.

We stand, kneel and lie for you, immortal ones, kind ones.

We sing, dance and speak for you, blessed ones, noble ones.

We ask not for much, merely for your guidance, your gentle hearts and your watchful eyes.

Protect us from harm, ease our illnesses and let the happy moments last. Cast away dark thoughts and painful tears.

We thank you.

I thank you, merciful mothers, sisters, daughters, fathers, brothers and sons. I thank you, beloved Gods.

You have fallen far and you have fallen hard. Little boy, how did you feel when you flew? Little boy, close your eyes and rest your head in my lap. The seagrass will bend and be a pillow to you, the fish will swarm and be your blanket.

Shh, little boy, soon you will know peace. Your father cries out to you, yet he'll never reach you.

He will dig a grave for the son he'll never bury and he'll give me the name of the son he'll never bury.

Like the train rattling the rails, like the thunder roaring on the horizon, like the beast growling in warning.

Run, before it hits you. Run, before it drowns you. Run, before it eats you.

My birthday is coming and it claws into my back. Another birthday that will bring me closer to the age you'll always be. Another birthday that'll keep me from seeing your face. Another birthday, still a girl who used to be a daughter. But a daughter without a parent is no daughter. She's just a girl.

it's me. That child. The one with a scraped knee and a snotty nose.

I'm a bit older now. The scraped knee has turned into a bruised neck and a snotty nose has turned into red-rimmed eyes.

I'm not the perfect daughter.

But may I fall at your knees? Can you kiss the top of my head and hold my hand?

Thank you Hera.

With warmest regards and the deepest love,

Standing at the crossroad. The nightingale hums a requiem and screams into the void without a sound ever emerging.

Standing at the crossroad. Unknowing where to go, unknowing where the paths will end, unknowing if fate will mend the wounds.

Standing at the crossroad. Raven and nightingale speak no word when the Veiled Lady appears. A torch to dissipate the dark. A hand taking mine. No longer alone. Her face gleams in the firelight. Her eyes speak of comfort.

Walking on. Passing the crossroad. With her guidance, moving forward is possible.

As I come to you with pain and aches,

I ask you to be gentle. Blow on my scrapes and caress my head and tell me that it's over now.

I ask you to be my refuge, as you are the light guiding me through the night.

I have little to offer you but my endless love and devotion. I have a voice to sing of your kindness and hands to show it. I have no golden cup but I will always tend to the fire of your compassion.