The Healer. The Seer.

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You were like October’s rain, rinsing away the ravages of Juno’s mayhem.
The last embers of a hissing fire, was extinguished with your shower.
With every step you took toward me, you made the crickets in the thicket fade away.
The something that used to corrode my insides, I was finally ready to give up.

Exhausted and lost, gasping for water, I had collapsed.
Hallucinating, probably, dazed I was, fatally close to the point of incinerating myself.
Though not a waterbearer, you shot an arrow from your quiver,
Through the rocks under my feet.

At your grace, upon your mercy, it was spring in mid October,
There sprang a stream, bubbling and splashing, abundant in plentitude.
But I did not lean down to quench my thirst;
Since there was Old Narcissus’ sad tale to note.

Then, passing away, seeing another in distress, you galloped away.
To quench someone else’s lips, to heal another set of broken wings.
You didn’t even turn back once, to see your magic peeling off undone…
That I am left alone again, left to go back to my October in mayhem.

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