Pallas Athena or Sophia,
Wisdom by another name,
enters from the wings onstage.
Then the players behold the sage,
with eyes wide open, with steady gaze,
direct and silent she conducts unfazed
by brassy horns and brash cymbals smashing,
crashing over doubt's redoubt,
triumphant pomp resounds throughout.
Blast back gates of fear's dark fortress –
Courage charging in with boldness.
Then there’s Temperance, darkly shining,
bulwark to such base opining;
she was present all along,
stalwart rhythm throughout the song
taming tempo’s ebb & flow
steadfast ‘midst the waves to know
we do not rise to meet the crest
but what know-how beats in our chest.
Here it comes, all the rest,
inscrutable Justice of just this,
with its strings of fate and fortune,
deftly plucked and bowed aloud,
each note seems of fancy struck
as if by some odd stroke of luck.
Upon some unknown godly lyre,
tunes and threads stir grief and ire,
disdain like ice and lust like fire,
rainbow prism of heart’s desire.
The organum of world’s accord,
Summum Bonum, the tonic chord.
The woodwinds hum in mellow tones,
“Sympatheia!” Life’s fullness grown,
divine plan shown to those with zeal
who revel in the dark reveal
there is naught but one great wheel,
spinning what appears as real.
The piece’s end draws to a close,
the cadence dies and then she knows
an utter silence firmly grounded
in the staff of Life unbounded.
What remains for Wisdom’s quest?
As she lays her wand to rest,
letting go in deep surrender,
true power of a tender breast.
Knowing now her work is done,
she exits off the podium,
off the stage into the wings,
Silent echo sweetly rings.
It’s up to us now to know ourselves,
to live and love what virtue brings.
Another lovely form of your music.