Book III

Medusa walked along

the alabaster streets

of the ancient city.

The maid was returning

from ornate abode of

second Erechtheus.

The city’s king had held

a feast in her honor;

‘twas but cunning pretext

for opportunity

for him to gain favor

among those who would be

allies or foes to his

intrigues and ambitions.

Such occasion proved the

most opportune moment

for rich and powerful

men to attempt to catch

the sun kissed golden orbs

of fair Medusa’s sight.

The eyes of the priestess

held a spell over men

that held them still as stone.

To show their affections,

she had been showered in

gifts of fur and jewels.

As she wound her way back

to Athena’s temple,

she spoke aloud a thought,

“How long has it been since

I offered sacrifice?”

Medusa set aside

the worrying notion.

“State craft is noble work

of Lady Athena,”

she reassured herself.

Priestess rationalized

time among opulence.

“How better to hold sway

over those who would rule

than by heart’s enchantment?”

Old and infirm alike

went unnoticed by her

sight, no more than pebbles

along her pristine road.

Returned to her chambers,

Medusa looked upon

Athena’s gift to her.

Something in reflection

commanded attention.

Anxiously she approached.

There was a collection

of flakes on her forehead

and cheeks, but when she went

to wipe them away there

were none found on her hands.

Still the patches of scales

remained in reflection.

Medusa drew her face

closer and closer to

the shield to inquire.

Braided lock of her hair

rose up and hissed as though

a manner of serpent.

The breath had been stolen

out of Medusa’s lungs.

Given fright, she stumbled

backwards. Priestess laid prone.

Maiden knew to atone

for her growing follies.

On her knees she pleaded

for Athena’s mercy,

but her penitent words

were echoed by bitter

back biting of her thoughts.

“Why do you punish me

for my accomplishments?”

she hissed at her goddess.

Bubo screeched in reply.

Dark clouds covered the sky

and the thunder echoed.

Then Athena was there.

She hide away clenched teeth

behind stoic grimace.

But it was grey-blue eyes

that belied her fury.

Priestess trembled with fear,

Thanatos could be near.

Athena closed her eyes,

breathed deep, and found kind word.

“My dear child, Medusa,

be not seduced by ego.

Make victim of yourself

in your mind, forever

you are defined by it.

Make not the gods’ graces

into foul afflictions.”

“Forgive me, Athena!”

Medusa wept into

her goddess’ chiton.

Athena stroked her hair

and spoke in stern whisper,

“Do not be sorry. Learn.”

Thunder echoed again,

Athena had vanished,

and Medusa shaken.

She ran a hand across

her swollen, tear stained eyes

to find her makeup smudged.

Medusa reached up to

attend to it but stopped.

She took the silken gown,

which had been patron gift

of a stately suitor,

and cleaned her face with it.

Medusa leaned forward

to observe reflection.

She retained blessed visage.

Medusa sighed relief.

For a time she did tend

well and true to her charge.

Yet enticing allure

of high station suitors

held much sway in her dreams.

Such is as the taste of

the most exquisite sweets.

The experience shall

linger on tip of tongue

and at forefront of thought.

Her patience for the work

had long since disappeared.

Though she could force herself

to say generous words

or adorn pleasant smiles,

Medusa could not bring

herself to bear witness

of divine spark within

their all too human souls.

One day she walked along

the Aegean’s’ shoreline.

There she met a stallion

of power and beauty.

The wondrous beast shimmered

with colors of the seas.

Medusa approached it

and stroked the beast’s vibrant

mane of cerulean.

The stallion whinnied with

delight at maiden’s touch.

The horse fiercely nuzzled

its face against hers till

Medusa had been shoved

to the sand as she laughed

at the antics of this

most peculiar beast.

The powerful equine

stood astride over her

as the ocean’s surf washed

over sublime figure.

Then a lightning bolt struck

surface of the ocean.

The stallion neighed in pain

as though it had been struck.

It staggered back into

the waves, which churned in kind.

Medusa rushed into

the water to offer

her comfort to the beast.

She lovingly held it

as she gently whispered

kind words to soothe its fear.

The animal gestured

for maiden to mount him,

and Medusa did so.

He galloped down the shore

as she rode him bareback.

Rhythmic thumping of his

strides stirred in her passions

that welcome attention

of one Aphrodite.

Medusa, embarrassed

and confounded by such

enticing emotion,

dismounted the stallion

and went to flee from it.

It had provoked in her

thoughts that invited a

temptation to break her

sacred chastity vow.

There was a reason why

maidens were priestess’

for virgin goddesses.

But before she could flee,

Medusa heard a voice,

“Don’t leave me without your

name, my beautiful girl.”

Medusa turned around

to find a rugged man

who radiated both

great power and danger.

Though awestruck by the sight,

Medusa was incensed

by her ego’s insult.

“Sir!” she angrily growled,

“How do you not know me?

I am none other than

exquisite Medusa,

Athena’s high priestess!

She who’s beauty is known

and coveted by kings

from across the world!”

In barren olive tree

Bubo kept careful watch

of unfolding events.

“Of course I know your name,”

the rugged stallion said,

“but I had to keep you

from fleeing before I

could share proclamation.

You underestimate

and do not overstate

the reverence commanded

by unequal beauty

you have been gifted with.

Girl, your idolaters

extend to the heavens.”

At those words, Poseidon

revealed his self in full

divine wonder and awe.

All thoughts of kings flew from

Medusa’s thoughts as she

had acquired a god.

Crying tears of sweet joy,

she rushed into his arms.

As she did so, he merged

again with the ocean.

Medusa laid herself

on the sand as the waves

worshipfully caressed

her serpentine body.