| The Dying of Light |
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| Thursday, 21 October 2010 19:04 |
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Through the late Ptolemaic clock From Athens sailed aft long discourse Arrived Hypatia at the dock Drawn to the light-house beaming source. Now gathered those who came to hear From cities grand of fame and might The thoughts that held her in revere That cleared a way to bold and bright. From learning shared is more coaxed out And thus the light does breach the dark To open doors of cast redoubt In omnipresent void, a spark. Rose the curious round each day And spread the avid, mismatched crowd Which tossed old givens by the way And blew fresh breeze on dreary shroud. Hypatia knew too well her place But spurned all those grown ill-content Who saw in pagan ways, disgrace And burned in ever more resent. While godly force about her grew That mindless clung to certain faith Empowered to repress the new And feared what might be found in wraith. The outraged cult upon her hard Then dragged her to their holy court And hacked her naked limbs with shard So did the child of truth abort. Long since the site of books had burned And now Hypatia in the ground. Saint Cyril smiled at what he’d earned A thousand years his righteous crown. Copyright Paul Heno 2010 |
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