Waiting For Chiron Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

1. Zeus, the absolute Olympian being,
never gave a hand to support the mortals,
yet, they never stretched a finger to revolt.
Inevitably they adored him, imitated him,
as children of violence, adopting his model.

I became spiteful, went and stole from him
the Light, to let the mortals know its knowhow.
Let him strap me on the rock; I, Prometheus
in Bonds, I endure ten eagles eating my liver.

2. The clouds did care to set me unbound and free.
How come they cool the brain of Zeus Nefeligeretis*?
They reflected him in their mirror, half-naked,
with one eye be the governor of blind nationals.

3. The Hope breathes while is waiting for Chiron,
the humble small god with the incurable wound.
The owl heard Chiron while he implored Zeus:
‘My life is in vain. Let me die, but allow
Prometheus the torch-bearer to live and act.’

On the rock waiting for Chiron to intervene,
I say that the weakest ones have a power
if only it balances Harmony with the Law:
Let the mortal have fire and God the Order.


© JosephJosephides