Mar
The Twilight’s Love Lost
By Parisianne Modert
How could I dare, being mere mortal, fall in love with and profane a daughter of Zeus? Did her muse magic draw me to her sad exile story as much as her birthing my poetic artistry?
Shall I tell you her name was Thalia of comedy and theatrical mask? Shall I call out her name as Erato of love, poetry and eros slinging arrows from her bow? Better yet, would Polymnia lyre player of hymns closer describe her? Was she more the music and justice of Calliope or the tragedy of Melpomene? Should I tell you that she was Ourania’s birth of a million stars through the telescope lens of my mind? May I confess to you that she danced through my psyche as Terpsichore or that her voice was worthy of Euterpe? Shall I praise her heroic history and name her Clio? Could even Zeus, the King god of Mt. Olympus, encapsulate her in lightning strikes? Zeus and Titanide are silent as their twilight from unfaithful humans such as I, but I have been shown her side of his clouded, closed gates by their Earth-bondaged daughter of charades.
What lucid dream of fantasy could conjure, birth or gestalt such a tortured muse of nine beats to her measured soul sounded out as a melodic fusion of Schoenberg, Stravinsky and Sting? Who misguided her faith with oppressive, religious society rules, denying her freedoms of Olympian spirit? Who abused this goddess’s playful innocence in this cruel mortal world?
What human is worthy of her given graces? Why did she choose to pour her affectionate gifts on me? When did I falsely fall in love with her impossible return? Why did I exaggerate her praise while becoming too arrogant and insensitive; while misunderstanding her family plights past and present? What emotional irrationality did I act out, knowing she could not fall in love with me, but needed a confidential friend? How could I fail her, letting my lips betray her last offered test to regain trust in me?
My shameful wrongs became exposed by her white-gloved-angel mother who softly brushed my cheek after my tearful repentance. This precious, love lost muse was correct to block my flawed behaviors.
Should anyone pity me?
No.
I deserved her closing of Mt. Olympus’s gates to me, due to my lack of honoring her truths.
Still I plea forgivence. Is there any mending left as reconsecration? Shall the twilight from her heart towards mine be eternal?
I have surrendered my dignity by falling Earthward from her clouded, gods’ pantheon. By letting go, I have been harkened by messenger angels, relighting my childhood innocence. Christmas angels have blessed me with a lighted orb casting out all my darknesses of remorse, unrequited obsessions. I wish only to heal others who still linger from love lost.
Shall I ever deny the inspirations, metamorphosis and kindnesses gifted by this sacred muse?
Never.
My love for her has become selfless, praying that she reopens her own twilight closings.
Tiffany V
I integrate Transformative Language Arts into any work I do, and I work with people all over the world, but I can't tell you who they are, due to NDAs! I was once told, “you exude art.” So, I decided to spend the rest of my life helping other like-minded individuals get to do the same. Let’s do something magical together!
While the introduction and photo lead-ins missed the point of this story which is of a singularly inappropriate love excess, personal faults by me being exposed and my painful confession wishing to be forgiven through pendence by reason and grace; I appreciate being published. This story is offered as contrition for my many sins to one lady who deserved far better from me. I still would love to repair my friendship with her, but only she can decide to accept or refuse this offer of friendship.
You sling words around like water on a hot skillet. You grab ideas and tossing them like a fine elegant salad dripping with honey and salt. Love lost is a Greek tragedy, to know and understand why is a lesson all of us can take heed of – including the Gods and Goddesses. You do it so well.
Thank you Diane, but the word “Gods” dishonors the purpose of the story which has really nothing to do with any male other than using “Zeus” as a descriptive. Tiffany and/or staff unfortunately choose a photo from the movie, “Hercules”, a mortal man. I wonder why in our day & age people are so afraid & in denial of a woman loving another woman. I wondered how many people today still remember the name of Titanide & her role as the mother of the 9 muses which is why I regretfully included Zeus. This confession, penance & plea is offered from one woman to another woman and has nothing to do with any man directly.
I write & turn it loose. It’s life no longer belongs to me. May it stir within the reader a little bit of essence that will bless them… I receive one thing…..another person sees something different. That’s what I love about the written word. We each bring our own experiences to anything we read.
I apprecieate the life you put into your story. I am sure that it was close to your heart.
Thanks for exposing this tender place Parisianne.
I like your allusions and I don’t think I mythed recognizing the Greek Greats here.