Exposure

Exposure

We have climbed higher than the peak of the Greeks

and left Olympus in the shade

of our doric deeds.

No need to plead the Panoply

for favor;

Psyche is the only queen we do allow

Carouse with her issue

Swell her sanctum sanctorum with our progeny
Render casual oblations of blood.

Ah, but we are cozened;

It is our own heart’s juice we sprinkle on the

altered altar of indifference.

                                                                 ~ Nib of Nib's End ~

    It is possible that many who read this poem will not understand my allusions to ancient Greek mythology and culture, in which case, my symbolism may then be too obscure to appreciate its meaning. This is a poem about abortion and infanticide, a deeply felt grief I carry in my heart for our nation. I suppose it could set off a firestorm of opinions both informed and uninformed dueling for preeminence, but that is not my intention.

     I had this seed of a feeling, that budded into a thought, that blossomed into a poem I couldn’t ignore. In the end, it ripened into a blog post. It is the nature of inspiration.

     "I believed the poets; it is they who utter wisdom from the central deep, and, listening to the inner flow of things, speak to the age out of eternity."

                                                                        ~ James Russell Lowell ~