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.