''The Package''

On a day like every other, though which one, I do remember.

Eyes in a stare of horror, scared, I looked on my porch, then shudder.

Strangely, in front of the door sat something that I did not order.

May be gifted horse of wood, golden box to open that none should?

Egad, thy trap already sprung, o’er doorknob my hand hung

-‘’Was it for me?’’, I wondered.

‘’Be spawned from Hell or sky fell?’’, demanding answers to no avail.

Bored to linger, soon eager, behind closed door no longer,

But a breeze came, then a shiver, almost forgot it was summer,

As I recalled thee vividly, in days past of January,

For only one but no other could work a heart so weary

-‘’Thou thought the same?’’, I wondered.

My heart I felt sunken, in a river where guide took no token.

Soul broken, about to fall prey, like pride on the wheel of Dante.

Resolve I found deep in sorrow, hoping a better tomorrow,

For the gap between trick or treasure and my fingers that narrow,

Pleading of seeing words written by thy hand not forgotten

-‘’Thine, was it?’’, still, I wondered.

Taking seize of the box wrapped in brown paper, gasping with stupor,

‘’No names?’’, I was stricken. ‘’Not even a letter’’, I uttered frozen.

How to know if to me or another the gift hath to be given

Or if even given by this maiden from Heaven and below?

Angel daring bestow love again upon one who shared thy woe?

-‘’Could it be so?’’, I wondered.

Those unctuous days draped in silk, quenched in milk and love of that ilk

Nurtured by thy Amaltheia’s breast and my Cornucopia’s crest

As one, bonding; endless babbling while bottled booby trap bubbled

Breath dancing, the Ouroboros sings until death be us parting,

Visions fading, veiled by the cloud of those words spoken out loud

-‘’Never again’’, I muttered.

Caught between Scylla and Charybdis, pain ill spoken or Hubris?

A spell was cast, sliced the mind, splitting space and time, thy heart and mine,

Melting the wings of our deepest wishes; Devil that banishes,

Sending souls resting in pieces, sleeping with the fishes, praying,

Seeking forgiveness, trapped in loneliness, denied solace.

-‘’What I deserved?’’, I wondered.

In front of the door I laid, pondering on the words just spoken.

‘’Tell me, tell me what to do, love and passion am I mistaken?

Please, hear this prayer, prayer of a sinner now weak and meager;

Why is this suspicious thing sits on my lap waiting and taunting?

At that moment, all my torment be whispering in lament.

-‘’Must I still wait?’’, I wondered.

A broken ship drifting and thy sea punishing, unforgiving

Was there even a chance reaching again that loved Ithacan shore?

For no matter parts replaced or repaired, what floated was sinking

Dreams dare not to be dreamt, never in lemniscate to see us both

I cried in agony: ‘’What hath become of Theseus’ boat?’’

But silence be, no wonder.

Certain more than ever of this parcel’s evil endeavor,

Would be charming trickery like chants near Sirenum scopuli,

And doomed my existence by nescience of what plague thy conscience;

I readied my hand to destroy the mean to the end of my joy.

Sadness sat, as I was to wrought wrath, one clear thought I hath.

-‘’No more, now or ever.’’

No more was I to sway from Virtue, for in patience all came due.

On my porch I stayed, the stars came and went, then began a new day

Forever, play my dear lyre, until my soul Death desires,

Messenger from beyond, delivering me from this misery.

Surely, someday, someone would come and explain this delivery.

Nothing, and still, I waited.

Until finally, letting inside exhausted mind and body

Dreary, I fell on my cushion chair, a corpse, no motion I dared.

‘’Goddess of Love’’, said I, ‘’If thou cherish thy children from above,

As I too languish for, thy will be my command, all to amend.

Mountains of seeds, drown in black waters, a drop of my beauty?-

But pain, please, leave my Psyche.''

Time is now passing slowly, and this box like a leaking bottle,

Behind closed door sitting lonely, in my heart only, I twaddle

And I pursue every fading hour, even if in a mire,

More wisdom to acquire. So that heart and spirit find answers,

Questions that none dare to utter, for the truth weights heavier

Then a box wrapped in paper.