The Oracle of Wine

Melia Suez

Aion, shepherd of life,
knelt in supplication
head bowed
before the king of all.
Reaching out his hand
the ancient pleaded
“Oh Lord, behold
The sorrows of man.
Enyo harvests them
As quickly as they grow.
Your deluge’s scars
still mark their landscape.
They die so easily!
No more will I guide them,
this luckless race of man.
Let another watch them
grow old and weary.
I cannot watch as
another bride loses her groom
before they have enjoyed
the arts of Aphrodite.
Lutes do not comfort
the heavy heart and even
Eros refuses to dance
at a joyless wedding feast.
Hope is a pretty plant
that feeds no one.
Would that Pandora’s curiosity
never been satisfied.
She the bane of mankind.
Prometheus is the cause.
His love for them, hurt them.
Better to have given them
the nectar of the Gods
which rejoices the heart.
Never you mind the aches
of these mortal hearts.
Do you enjoy the musky smell
of the burnt-offerings at your feasts?”
Upon saying this the ancient fell silent.
Zeus Allwise sat silently ruminating
Over the things that Aion had said.
His creative mind running wild
through infinite meditations
upon what is and what could be.
At last the son of Kronos spoke,
his divine voice giving an oracle
higher than Delphic voices
could ever hope to achieve.
“O self-begotten Father
Most ancient and wise Shepherd,
Driver of the chariot of years,
Be not angry at their lot!
Mortals are like Selene,
Waxing and waning
through their seasons.
Leave the nectar to your kin.
I will give to them
a heal all drink
more suited to their forms.
They must suffer
a while longer however.
A child of my loins
shall carry a gift
of fragrant fruit to them.
He will teach our mortals
the cultivation and uses
of this wondrous vine.
He will be Demeter’s rival
And the Herald of merry hearts.”
When he finished speaking his peace,
the Moirai applauded his oracle and
the lovely dancing Horia sneezed,
affirming the High King’s foretelling.

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