Mortal Summer
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Mortal Summer - Mark Van Doren
Mark Van Doren
Mortal Summer
Sharp Ink Publishing
2022
Contact: info@sharpinkbooks.com
ISBN 978-80-282-0534-8
Table of Contents
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
COLO PHON
I
Table of Contents
The cave
they slept in, halfway down Olympus
On the eastern slope, toward Asia, whence the archangels
Even then were coming—even then
Bright Michael, and tall Gabriel, and the dark-faced
Raphael, healer of men’s wounds, were flying,
Flying toward the ship all ten would take—
The cave they slept in sparkled as their eyelids
Opened; burned as they rose and stood; hummed
And trembled as the seven, the beautiful gods
Gazed at each other, wonderful again.
The sweet sleep of centuries was over,
If only as in dream; if only a mortal
Summer woke them out of endless death.
The grey eyes of Athene, flashing slowly,
Demanded of Hermes more than he could tell.
It was not I that roused you.
Hermes pondered,
Tightening his sandals. "All at once,
And equally, we woke. Apollo there—"
The musical man-slayer listened and frowned—
"And Ares, and foam-loving Aphrodite
Yawned at the very instant Artemis did,
With me, and swart Hephaestus." The lame smith,
Stroking his leather apron, blinked at the others,
Worshipful of brilliance. Even in Ares,
Scowling, and more quietly in her
The huntress, whose green robe the animals knew,
He found it; and of course in Aphrodite,
Wife to him once, he found it, a relentless
Laughter filling her eyes and her gold limbs.
It was not I,
said Hermes.
Thunder sounded,
Weakly and far away. And yet no distance
Wrapped it. It was here in the lit cavern:
Here, or nowhere. And the trembling seven
Turned to the rock that sealed a deeper room.
There Zeus, there Hera sat, the feasted prisoners
Of a still greater person, one who changed
The world while there they mourned, remembering Ida.
Some day they too would sleep, but now weak thunder
Witnessed their remnant glory; which appalled
As ever the proud seven, until Hermes
Listened and leaned, then spoke.
"It was the king
Our father. He has willed that we should wander,
Even as in a dream, and be the gods
Of strangers. Somewhere west of the ocean stream
He sends us, to a circle of small hills—
Come, for I see the place!"
That suffered thunder
Sounded again, agreeing; and they went.
Out of the cave they poured, into spring sun
Whose warmth they yet increased, for the falling light
Was less than theirs was, moving as they moved.
No soldier and no shepherd, climbing here,
Would have discovered deity. The brambles
Hid as they ever had this stony hole
Whence seven had been wakened, and where still,
Enormous in dark chains, their parents wept.
Invisible to suns, the seven gathered
Round a white rock and gazed. The sea was there,
The Aegean, and a ship without a sail
Plied southward, trailing smoke; at which Hephaestus
Squinted. Then he slapped his thigh and smiled,
And waved