Atlas

 Atlas

I see you

standing alone

on the western edge

in a never ending time-out.

 The heavens are  heavy.

Your muscles strain

 beneath them

as you shift around

from one leg to the other

awkwardly adjusting

exhausted limbs

to hold the weight.

Stumbling,

 you try to balance

yourself beneath

the crushing gravity

of the Solar System's  orbit

as large droplets of sweat 

form on your furrowed brow,

and drip like dying water falls

to your clenched feet.

The surface beneath you

 becomes even more 

slippery and unstable

with each drop of 

your effort.

You groan and moan,

calling out for help

from the empty space,

a pitiful sound that echoes 

in your own ears.

Alas, there are no more titans

to wipe your face

or to help you carry 

this load for

they are all burning

in  the fires of tartarus....

their punishment for following you.

You, my friend,  are alone in

this wrathful penance

Zues has given you to carry

through eternity.

I wonder

as I watch you, though,

if you must serve out this sentence

until the end of time.

Is there a way to set you free?

What would happen, 

I ask,

if you were to take a deep breath,'

big enough

and slow enough,

to clear the foggy notes 

of conditioned shaming  

from your mind? 

What would happen if you 

 stopped blindly believing 

what you have been taught;

and bravely questioned 

the power and authority

of Zues's verdict?

What would happen if,

 instead of clenching in resistance,

believing you deserved 

this eternal punishment

you so obediently carry,

you relaxed your weary muscles

and let 

the planets roll

like  weightless balls

 from your hands,

into the shunyata that

can easily hold everything

in its vacuum?

I wonder, my friend,

what would happen

if you stopped tensing up,

if you stopped clinging, grasping,

and holding on to

that which is so heavy

and instead you relaxed , 

and let  go  

of this weight you were carrying

for much too long. 

How much lighter 

and freer

would you be?

© Dale-Lyn April 2024