Part One
When I was a girl
With skin white as milk
I would walk through vast and palatial halls
My head bowed in silent reverence
Alone in Acropolis
When I was a young woman
I offered counsel to Queens
‘Io’, they called me
Humble and beloved
The Virgin Priestess
One day I saw a man
More powerful than any I’d ever laid eyes upon
He was whispered to be a great King of the sky
And the marble floor cracked beneath his feet where he
walked
He had thick dark curls that hung loose around his shoulders
A tangled beard and wild looks
And eyes that burnt into me
Waking a storm in my heart
He came to me in my dreams
Visions of golden fields
Growing rampant and procreant
Of limbs and moans
And the wild, fierce eyes of Jupiter
Part Two
The day I lost my innocence
I was walking through the laced and golden fields of Lerna
And he appeared before me
Surging with desire
I thought to evade him
But his gaze made my limbs heavy
It surprised me how gentle his touch was
How quickly my body turned to butter beneath his mouth
And I forgot all reason for resistance
He stretched his arms wide
And summoned the clouds
Dark and pendulous
To cloak us from watching eyes
To hide our tryst from the world
From the crags of Mount Olympus
Hera, Queen of cunning
Sees the skies gather with thick grey matter above that
golden meadow
Suspicion aroused
She descends her watch tower
Jupiter, clutching at me
In the height of his pleasure
Whispers furiously and casts me to the ground
‘mutatio bovum’
I fall to my hands and knees
The incantation still ringing in my ears
As a sharp pain splits my head
I arch my back
And I groan, deep and guttural from my throat
My breasts and belly convulse and sag
My fingers itch and I look down to see
My horror
Cloven hoofs upon the dusty ground
Hera chases the clouds
They scatter at her hand
The barley withers and blackens at her touch
Fruit smokes and falls from branches
A fatal ripening
Smearing the soil with flesh coloured pulp
‘What’s this?’
Her voice mordacious
But sweet as red wine
It cloys at my ears
And I feel dizzy from my transformation
‘what a beautiful bovine
A gift to be bestowed upon your faithful wife?
I have such a thirst for milk
Would you deny me, husband, what I desire?’
Part Three
When I was a beast
I walked the land without rest
One thousand eyes watch me
One thousand gadflies sting me
And all are sentry
With the patience of the ages
Jupiter for my womb
Hera for my life
Wandering drives me nearly to madness
But as I stagger through Bosporus
The earth shapes itself around me
To guide my passing
I come upon a man
Bound in invisible tethers to the side of Mount Caucasus
With an eagle feasting from his viscera
His face twisted in agony, he calls out to me
‘Mother of Dynasties
You shall come to rest in Egypt,
And there you will return to woman form
And the fruit of your womb
Will release my chains’
Part Four
I find myself in a land of new gods
And strangely shaped temples
And there my wanderings finally cease
As I fall beside the Nile
Horns and hoofs retreating
My woman form returns
The day I became a Mother
I lay mired on that riverbank
Mud swells around my hips
And streaks across my distended belly
Milk leaks from my heavy breasts
And courses down my brindled body
The Nile rages
And I cry out in agony
for the child charging from my womb
the fluid of my fertility runs thick and fast around me
and courses through the mud
Unto me a babe is born
Precious child mud, river and earth
I clutch at him with all my remaining strength
And he feverishly drinks my life’s milk
The tide rises
And the sun bakes the mud to our skin
I name him Epaphus
For my skin still trembles from the touch of his conception
Part Five
When I was an old woman
They named me Isis
Mother of Dynasties
Each day my son grows stronger
They say he will rule Egypt
A great horned King
And son of his sons
Will free those who are eternally bound
But I have withered
My womb still aches
My skin is stained
Daubed and couple coloured
I lose my words
And moan from my throat
My legs buckle beneath me
And my hands grip the earth
Sometimes in my dreams I walk those halls
I see the ground crack beneath Jupiter’s holy feet
I still see that golden field
Blistering and smoking
I feel the grain pressed hard against my skin
I smell those cloying fruits
And feel his touch curdle me like butter
But I am a wise and weary woman
The child I once was burns in the sky
Beside her first love and his wild, fierce eyes
And my great, great granddaughters
Will return to that city Argos
And will walk the fields of Lerna freely
