Author’s Note: In Greek Mythology, Poseidon fathered many children through powerful women by seducing them, or raping them when his kinder efforts did not work. Atlantis was allotted to him and it is said that he populated the land with offspring from a mortal woman. Some say Atlantis fell in war with Athens because they were ill prepared. Some say the land was swallowed by the sea on the order of Zeus and the other gods for how corrupt the people had become.
This is a rhyming poem without meter. I wrote it with the intention to weave my own journey with the story arch of the being it addresses.
Are you calling me, Poseidon? With your currents and waves and stormy days? The coastal breeze in the East, teaching seabirds to fly and mermaids to sing? Is there an endless stream of serenity if we make it through the Tempest? If we make enough beauty to appease you, will you give us eventual rest? The peace a soul longs for when they’ve known only storms. The tired limbic bow ever sailing into the clouds. Longing for the break of light to soften the perpetual plight. I cannot climb very high anymore, when my heart remembers the ocean floor. Will you care for me, Poseidon? Where have all your daughters gone? Turned to rivers and springs and hideous beings when they inevitably lost their song. For man coats the rainbows in the colors of war, and you can’t contend with a heart-turned black at the core. Have you had enough conquest, with your appetite for the Goddess? Will your sons fatigue and subside When you remember you have your bride? Did you grieve when Atlantis fell and rally your seas in retribution for so many broken dreams? Did you surge enough to wear yourself down? And let the other gods believe you drowned? Are you sleeping in the deep, Poseidon? Will you wake for this sailor’s quest? Evoke the North Star to guide me for she will answer at your behest. For I searched for water in thirsy lands and too long have I been gone. It is time to recall where I belong and follow the the siren-song, when your sundered children return, when your raging tides have turned. Copyright © 2021, S. Naify