One Day

He sits in the wide door to his father’s house,
playing with toys,
crudely painted soldiers with gilded helms,
gleaming in the sun.

His nurse tells him he is a prince,
will be a king some day, and a warrior;
his mother stoops, whispers,
tells him of his father who is king,
long lost, long sought,
longed for …

One day, she murmurs,
lips soft against his sun-warmed hair,
one day—a world full of longing,
echoes of an endless sea,
all encompassing.

After, he will always see her thus:
standing in the empty door
with her eyes turned outward,
hear the murmur reflected
in every lineament—
one day.

It will cling to his shadow like the sea,
pace at his heels down every road
of the dream long held to, pursued
through the length of years
and breathed into his heart
with a brightness of sun motes, dancing
in that long ago doorway—
one day:

One day.
.
(c) Helen Lowe

Published in International Literary Quarterly 14, February 2011

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Photo credit: Malcolm Timperley

One Day is a poem from my Ithaca Conversations sequence, a slant-wise (to paraphrase Emily Dickinson) look at characters and events from Homer’s The Odyssey. The “voice” in this particular poem is that of Telemachus, Odyssues and Penelope’s son.

I am reposting it today because am busy, busy, busy with revising the penultimate section of the WALL series finale. Although an oldie now, tis still a goodie, so enjoy. 😀