A Poet At The Parthenon - No.1 400 Bce

Glaucus, a young poet, recently published, ascends the Acropolis to seek Athena's wisdom. As he approaches the Parthenon, he prays to Aphrodite. Golden Aphrodite, Goddess, you gave me a companion for my bright days and deep nights, the woman who matched my dreams in her reality. She lifted me to the sky's realm, where we breathed the same air that that nourishes the Olympians. And then I fell from those starry heights, alone I fell past planets, past starlight, past morning and noon, into the night realm where hope is blind to beauty, desires turn to dust, trust vanishes. This is not the Night of Lovers. She left me for another man, rich and sophisticated, everyone's friend - mine included: he published my first book of poems. He laughed, amused at my grief, Glaucus, my boy, my poet, you're young. I need her more because I'm old. You've written your Love Poems, go and write your Grief Poems, and I'll publish them too. Goddess, am I not a broken shell, a brick dislodged from its wall, a piece of fruit rotting on the wayside? Have I not sacrificed to you, seeking no glory but only your glory? Have I not praised you in the marketplace, in the theater, on the hillside and the shoreline? I prayed. I danced. I cried out in pain or joy. It was not I, but always and everywhere, it was YOU, Goddess of Sea-Foam, Goddess of lyre and love song. Hear me, even now I raise my voice, cracked, its beauty of tone roughened by crying. Goddess of the Best Gift, Goddess of the heart's highest hope, hear me as we near the Parthenon... I have not climbed to this Temple of Athena to complain about you, to spread false rumors about you in the hearing of the other gods. It is to praise you and thank you, in their presence, that I stand upon this sacred ground. I prayed to you for love and you gave me a lover: she proved false but You proved faithful. I implored you for beauty in my life, and this beauty dazzles me everywhere. And it spills forth so abundantly, others, even a false friend and a faithless lover, can enjoy it. Aphrodite, I ask for only one gift: Make me worthy of the next lover who will cross my path, because in my heart I know it is your desire too.