Quod Obstat Viae Fit Via

This poem was formed in the head of Zeus

And sprang out as Athena.

Athena! Athena! Athena!

And now she goes ahead of me

As the goddess of war and strategy,

And she smites and smites and smites until

The beat down is swallowed like a bitter pill

And no weapon formed against her will prosper!

I sing her praise as I watch her fight!

She takes the swords of my enemies

(Including my worst one, oft being myself!)

And beats them down into ploughshares for me,

So that I might plant a garden of olive trees 

In honor of her,

And offer the oil of the pressured fruit on her altar,

And scribble the notes of what I see.

These poems are important 

Memos to me of how I should be

When I grow up

And become able take a stand against injustice and indignity 

And the assaults against common human decency.

And I will return the portion of sacrifice 

For those who cannot quite stand up and fight for themselves,

(But they’re also learning…)

And Athena goes out ahead of me,

And ripples of strength and solidarity 

And echoes of her Truth and Reality

Go marching on.

Athena! Athena! Athena!

-jenn