The gods took note. 
Everything recorded or sung 
on Mount Olympus 
was whispered first below.
A child on a mother’s knee 
heard it first.
 
During the Spring of womanhood, 
the mother was Ceres. Her child 
was a dangerous spinning top 
for whom she risked Hades, 
ready to stop time in its tracks.
 
In Summer, the second season, 
Cassandra emerged. She knew 
all and had seen all. 
Under sails that flapped like gulls’ wings,
her eyes pierced storm clouds
and saw destruction.
She knew Ceres was wrong,
That no one can stop time. 
The halting of time in winter 
is an illusion. Even Atlas 
knows the world 
spins on his shoulders.
 
Then with the arrival of Fall,
the woman, like Calypso, 
held to all she loved until, 
like ocean water, 
it slipped between her fingers, 
like leaves from the trees,
or the loves she lost.
 
Winter was Penelope’s season. 
Though not a goddess,
she knew above the rest 
that anything of value 
is worth the wait.