Leda and the Swan
by MFrostDelaney

A swan, a naked woman, and a myth,
a time when gods ruled sun and moon and sea,
when Zeus, that mighty one, could have his way,
and morph into a bird of gentleness,
the swan, who moves below the water’s calm,
whose pure white feathers glisten in the light,
while holding his head upright—dignified.

But Leda didn’t know that his looks lied,
as if he came by cover of the night,
that he would have her then, inject his balm.
If she said, No, her posture whispered, Yes.
And where was King Tyndareus this day,
when his wife Leda fell and couldn’t flee
that peck, that kiss, that other she was with?

How different are our stories that explain
the mysteries of birth and death and love?
In ages from this day will faith remain
in Jesus, Allah, Yahweh—God above?


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