Prometheus Laments
What trouble, oh dear Prometheus, brings to me your pleas?
Do they scream, “Release us, act no longer like devotees!”
Oh universe, why do you pamper now the human race?
Do you not see its need to kill itself and leave no trace?
How its water, air and land do perish before your eyes,
how it wars and maims and robs resources, ignores the cries
of future needs and wants ideologies that divide,
but ignores what serves the earth and takes no side?
“Prometheus,” they say “Erect a true democracy.”
“Why,” I mock, “don’t you practice and enjoy hypocrisy?”
The scoundrels lie and are so unworthy of your mighty powers.
You gave them nature’s riches, they gave you concrete towers,
filled the land with plastics, oil and numerous toxic stains,
let their wireless waves so water down their idle brains.
Yes, Prometheus, greatest of heroes for humankind,
I hear your voice and feel your pain, for none but I consigned
you to that task of which you now find onerous,
the work you begged me for, when you did feel more generous
to this wild creature that now you say is uncontrolled.
Do you recall that ancient time of fire, when you extolled
and pitied the creature you now deride, you the one so bold
you took divine food and gave it to help the human fold?
That was you, dear hero, the creator of human hearts,
you made their civilization, you taught them all the arts,
and now you ask to wipe away their story ‘cause it hurts
to see them turn, become the monster that now perverts
the image you hold dear? “How dare they scoff, how petulant!”
I see how much I need to teach you, little postulant.
No race is ever safe, regardless how they seem to fare,
for all must find the way to stay, and each must act aware.
I said the human race is young, too young to walk away,
but this is not a guarantee the race won’t end one day.
Take hold of what is good in them and let their strengths prevail,
Be the guardian, show the way, do not their faults assail.
Moan not the end of life, in me no life will ever end.
I embrace them all in energy none will ever rend.
My substance is this bond, will and living growing essence.
I am the one beyond the time, I am the why and whence,
so wait a short time longer, watch and see what they can do;
‘expect too much, receive too little,’ once again renew
your love for them with talents yet to harvest or to bloom.
Time now to end your doubts, your ancient task must now resume.
They revere their riches, not me, whose way ends in the fire,
though I’ve learned their tricks so I could lift them higher
and keep them from the dangerous walk across the wire
of self-destruction, selfishness and arrogant desire.
At times they fooled me, made me think how one might then conspire
to save them from deceit, unfaithfulness and circumstance
revolting, bestial and cruel, where poisonous plants
or rabid beasts behaved much worse. I view them as a plague,
a scourge on all of life, whose dire design once seemed vague
but, as the species grew, its plan was clear, and now I plead:
Remove me from this grievous task of watching man succeed
in making mutants all your forms of life. Erase this curse,
begin again, create anew, oh wondrous universe.
Oh friend of humankind, do be patient with these creatures.
Pay no mind to all their insecure and prideful features.
You are far beyond their kind, and to you they seem so low,
but let these children now accept the fruit of seeds they sow.
They still are young, the hardy insect knows more ages,
let them learn and burn from words of wisdom of their sages.
All is yet to end, despite their infantile pollution.
Their own addictions will bring the needed retribution
and punish them far more than heroes like you are able.
Yes Prometheus, we must transcend the myth and fable.
The human animal is an accidental creation,
its story too mysterious to end the celebration
of its birth and promise. Behold its arts and dreams and skills,
such works reveal a depth as great as nature’s daffodils.
To what do we compare its thinkers, builders, hallowed saints?
What creature is creator and tries to think without restraints?
Take heart, they’ll heal and dash that mischievous dark infection
caused by waste and greed and seek a grander deep direction.
Thanks to you, their great inspirer, they’ll make it through the storm
of egotism, pride, desire and sloth, and choose reform
not things; you’ll help them find their worth and bring the earth to health.
They will revere your way, discover truly what is wealth.
O greatest and most glorious, I willingly accept
the task you set, but they rebel, are stubborn ones adept
at sly and devious plots, who flush the gods down in latrines
and worship more laboratories, relish the machines.
My cup is slowly emptying, the mystic disappears
My mind is blank, the statues crumble, see me now in tears.
Every idea fails before the stubborn human will!
So tell me now, what will cure the disease that makes them ill?
I am the last, as you know well, the one who gave them birth,
but how to resurrect their spirit, let them see their worth,
has long ago escaped me, hence why I need your vision.
Let me know the truth, say what is destiny’s decision?
To see a Titan troubled over matters quite untrue,
to see you grieve with little cause, see not the greater view
is worrisome and clearly comes from what you misconstrue.
The way is like a river flowing down a hill, with stone
and wood impediments trying to prevent or postpone
the possibilities that you or I might praise or censure,
but that is growth; they have only started this adventure.
Your pets will find another path, their story is alive,
they want more than terrorist threats and barely to survive.
Have faith in them, my hero, spirits each must choose a role,
or evil wins and makes a sorry blight that soon will kill the soul.
Battles over God and land that make a haunting vision
are not the future, they’re minds of borders and derision.
You start with this: make again a world without division.
Let them see that all are one, uphold that brave decision.
And if you ask the universe, what seek I in nation?
The universe is an indivisible creation,
a universal being, without discrimination,
yet diversity conjoined in one blood relation.
Think you that all of humankind will not awake one hour?
No life of mine is doomed to end its trek and cower
before its fate. Its life is special, exits prevented.
This their planet, this their truth, they are who’s represented
and no border, government, faith or troops precede them
because they belong to me and I alone will lead them.
But dearest universe, how can they who hate each other
rise above and be as one? They torture child and mother,
rape their families to glorify a man and book;
they do not give alliance or kindness a second look.
Unity is far from mind, compassion a thing of old.
Are we perhaps now watching their demise unfold?
Even men of madness try to treat each other better,
but these will kill their friends to obey the sacred letter.
It is horrific to watch a species butcher its own kind
and throw away their self-respect so one group is not maligned.
Remember the crusades, oh universe, that travesty
of hate; recall the countless genocides of history
when millions perished for infantile ideologies?
Behold that darkness hides the sun, when dire philosophies
engulf the mind and flowers give way to blackest ashes.
Does death not rule and relish exposing life to lashes?
There are some rowdy rascals too protective of their creeds,
but I see them as puppies now, mischievous in their needs
and mostly dumb in their awareness, distracted by their gifts.
How else can we explain their willingness to choose the rifts
that come with tyranny and lovingly embrace the cruelty
that favors prejudice and make no apologies for fealty
to war and ruin far beyond a peaceful and balanced state.
But fear not. I lose no confidence in their future fate.
Nor must you, oh honored hero. Be fair, it’s not too late.
I have not your infinite vision of events to come.
I have not your powers and can more easily succumb
to many pictures of disgust in my centuries with man.
I never interfere, I stand aside and weep, and watch them ban
the good and praise the bad and never lose a wink of sleep.
There are the few I love who do defend the right and keep
what’s true and bravely trust what’s real. For them I do endure
the rage that stews within my being. Those few are pure.
So once again I shall revive my work, you know what’s best.
I’ll wait my chance and keep an eye on all. I have no zest,
but perhaps the few will grow and the sun shall heal my sight
and I’ll recall so many years ago when through the night,
I strained with joy to bring the human race to light.
THE END
- D. Renforth, an American living in Toronto, graduated from the University of Toronto (Ph.D.). The Masters Thesis and the Doctoral thesis of Renforth were both published, as well as several articles. Renforth has also published in the last year eleven short stories.