In Homer’s “The Iliad,” I read of Thoê, minor
References, certainly not heroic, daughter of
Nereus, bare-breasted, idyllic life beneath sea,
Crystal cave residing. Since then, my existence
Consisted of perplexing dreams. Yet, I recall
Romance on secluded Ægean shores, my secret
Love, epic verse never parchment penned.
Was I shapely-ankle maid Homer described,
Divine creation, daughter of oceans, blooming
And perceiving heavens wide, rising to edge
Of Æther. O! Yes, I recount long-winged eagle
Soaring eastern skies afar, beholding ethereal
Beams of sacred fire. Alas, for such trespasses,
Gods in lofty chariots spirited me away.
Awakened decades later with no mention in
Homer’s “Epigrams” or “Fragments,” perhaps
My unbound passions were more tryst than
Holy union, woman secretly love-lost, joys and
Sorrows felt. Yet, I knew not sickness, pain,
Nor want, such blessings originating from
Greek deities, plangent voices silenced.
For now, I visit winter ocean marshes, shores
More befitting, evening herons fishing. In sun-
Rise clarity my heart awakened, amongst sea
Breezes, I sensed tugs of two lovers, mortal and
Divine, each ever pressing. Poetry composed
In twilight hours, take not this sweet life from
Me, for verse is my secret love revealed.
Having found herself in Homer’s “The Iliad,” Thera recalled
secret love, flower-laden spring on Ægean shores, her ocean
Light gathered in passion and in song, but by whom?