Mythology

Flowers grew under your feet

a carpet for your laughter to trail 

after you. 

The sun turned your skin-

shade of the earth

she loved so. 

You would let the water

wash over your body

her song the only melody you desire.

When you stood with you mother

they called you Kore.

Who were you when you were alone? 

You wove a crown of flowers, 

asters, coreopsis, poppy,

to wear on the hair your mother braided. 

Were you frightened when the earth

opened her mouth? When he 

stepped out of gaping dark?

What waited for you

under the soil you had

nurtured with your growing hands.

Was there darkness? Or 

were the waiting souls

lit with the hope of your arrival?

Did you find joy in their patience? 

For to them your kindness was

 a sun burning with no sky. 

Did you plant a garden? 

Leave a trail of clover? Did he 

gift you with yarrow and myrtle? 

When you stood with him

they called you Persephone but

who were you when you were alone?

What was your name, keeper of flowers? 

Who were you, guardian of souls?

Who could you have been, if not for the desires of others?