To a Goddess

On this cheatgrass and lava plateau,
among sun-beaten basalt outcrops
and foraging ravens, it is hard
to believe you might speak,
as you did to Odysseus,
his heart grown weary with travel,
mind moving over the ocean,
black ships at rest in the cove,
their prows pointed home.

Too often the gods we serve,
whatever we call them,
are Money and Power,
the Holy Land seething
with oil and with blood.

Athena, grey-eyed beauty, come
now in your silver slippers,
your arms bared and open.
Come disguised as a child
or a broken soldier.
Walk among troubled hearts.
Teach us wisdom, compassion
and courage.

Daughter of Zeus Kronaides,
strength of the ancient heroes,
lead us home.

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