statue of athena seen through branches

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The Rebirth of the Goddess by Leticia Toraci

Zeus—!


I raised you.

Educated you.

When you grew up,

You swallowed me whole.


I remained millennia within you,

Guiding you.

Without me you would have been only instincts and satisfaction.

A fool.

You would have fallen.

Like your father Cronus.

And your grandfather Uranos.

And all the other men who profited from the stolen energy of women.


But I grew tired of serving you.

My love, unrewarded

My pain, unnoticed.

My work, presupposed.


So I gave you the sharpest of migraines.

I was the most resentful, the most insatiable torturer.

No more feasting on senses without the pain of responsibility for you..

For each time you had relished the pain of others,

I plunged another flaming blade deeply within your skull.

The red bright blades throbbed like the waves of contractions in childbirth

Rising and ebbing,

Only, instead of in a woman’s womb, the childbirth was happening inside your head.

At the peak of your agony,

Hephaestus took a wedge and a hammer

Splitting open your skull

And I was reborn.


Not as a mother, but a daughter.

Not my past self who would nurture you,

Who would indulge you,

Who would coddle you,

But a new being.

Guided by my mind, not your feelings.


My soul now forged, independent,

I put my divine armor on.

My shield, the head of Medusa, petrifies my opponents.

And pulling on divine webs

I made others my figureheads,

My puppets.


I would be the guide for the promising ones.

The wisest, the bravest, the most accomplished,

My heart cold marble,

Forever hidden in deep shadow,

Never to be warmed by the wild sun.

And only the weavers of the future, the spiders observed

As I became a tool of destiny.

Forever and tirelessly powerful

On my own.


Yesterday I was your mother,

The wise and cautious Metis,

Your lover,

Your wife,

The one who guided you to power and was shamefully betrayed.

And, for a while, I was your daughter.

But I returned stronger, colder, and fiercer.

Today I am only myself and that’s enough.

Each of the days in my immortal life will be a challenge to patriarchy.


Standing straight and proud,

My silver armor glinting in the sun,

Reflecting the silver of my bold and cunning eyes,

I am now reborn.

I am Pallas Athena.


Bio

Leticia Toraci is a Brazilian freelance writer, poet and artist who lives with her husband, her two sons and a moody cat in South Germany. She has a degree in Master of Food Science from the University of Reading, England. She participated in theater in Campo Mourao, Brazil, where she recited several of her poems. She has also had art exhibits in Regensburg, Aschaffenburg and Munich, Germany. Together with other authors, she has published three short stories in three anthologies, The Dragon's Rocketship Presents: The Ship's Log, Sins of the Future (Sins of Time #2), and Writers in Lockdown.

Blog: leticiatoraci.wordpress.com

BlueSky: @leticiatoraci.bsky.social

Author's note

This is a poem with a feminist angle on the myths of Metis and Athena.