She had returned from the sun when I visited
her smile embraced us welcome
as the warmth of the sofa, where we sat together,
her restraint soaked the air stifling our words.
Suddenly her eyes filled as
the protests poured their river between us;
against the fish of days bleeding together
as she perfects the jugglers’ art,
spinning the tops of work & care
silently mourning far-flung family
while carving a life in a foreign land.
The sun she had come from was an eruption
throwing Zeus’ bolts into her life
a message of death flew her to its core
his mother had died, her duty the funeral.
Now home, sleep called her
but its luxury was beyond her ability
care called its siren song from the rock of her heart
a heart that wished to grieve
for a sister three months beneath the ground.
I the daughter of such a woman
who had flowed as she had flowed to this land,
but I had known good times,
now I too faced days of Fate’s ire:
days of juggling care for a man once strong
but now fearful of every bite
every breath a matter of concentration
as he battles to live, recover, thrive.
I juggle the clubs of his calls
with the universal mundane duties of life
that spin their web over my days
encasing me in their lace of duty
while my heart longs for rest, joy.
I drown tears and fears behind my smile
as I watch a new generation frolic,
I long for my loved ones fledged afar.
Together we talked and Laughter lit her tides
joining our hearts in comfort’s relief:
the promise of an evening together
a glass of wine, a chance to talk,
Hera’ blessing flowed in an Heraia of peace
a wish for the year to turn
from Eris to Aphrodite, a new era of joy