by Heather Cox
He sits at the crossroads and guides travelers towards their destination.
much in the same manner that he guides the souls of the dead on their final journey.
He watches over and tends his flocks as any good shepard would,
all the while wearing a sly smile at the thought of the games we mortals play.
The twinkle in his eye rivals that of any jewel that a thief who pays
homage to him would claim.
And once this fleet footed one delivers his divine messages, he joins
his talents to the merry making, deftly playing his pipes.
A trickster, cunning and swift, yet ever the supreme ambassador.
He is Hermes.
neosalexandria 