watershed of emotions
indifferent onlookers suddenly morph
melodious puppets on invisible string
bowing and weeping, they mourn the act
of crossing the river Styx
archetype as old as metamorphic rock
as prevalent as the water vapor in my lungs
and as momentous as gods
giving humans the power of fire
you may not be able to see the victory
but can you feel it? taste it in the air?
the savory smell of conquest rises
to the sweet song on lyres and harps
beating to the drum
of earth’s thumping heart
as you finally find the meaning of life

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