[Kalypso]

by David Michael Conner

When dawn spread out her finger tips of rose

fair Kalypso drew in the sacred air,

cloaked her lithe body in heavenly frocks

and set out for the seaside, where the man

Odysseus cast his mortal gaze to

his mortal wife, who ruled his heart supreme.

To this Odysseus’ captor spoke out,

and challenged the man’s immortal love:

“Love,

son of Laertes, virile Odysseus,

I confess that you have charmed immortals,

among them me, small by comparison

to grey-eyed Athena, who dominates

Olympus with heart and reason, but great

in admiration of a heart like yours,

strong and devoted to its pledge, beating

for one woman only, oblivious

to the beauty of never-ending life.

I have granted you leave, and I will aid

you in your travails, for you will encounter

dangers and troubles within and upon

the winedark seas so as to test a heart

and body as strong as even you have.

And so I beg of you, Odysseus,

to consider my position to you,

even as I were not your first lover,

even as you may love one in greater

measure, with a heart steeped in seadark wine:

I am a love to you if not the love,

and our love will grow plump like sweet-nectared

fruits of the olive tree, seasoned with sea-

water; time for me is never-ending;

for you, time will wear your body old,

and degrade your mind, if you are granted

a long life by Zeus, who smiles upon

your mortal soul—blessèd, but still mortal!”

To this, astute Odysseus observed:

“Goddess, your charms are convincing, and you

have loved me well, too well almost, for my

sake. For I nearly lost Penelope,

in my mind, but never in my heart,

and never shall I. No, never can I!

Your offerings to this humble man are

many, and his pleasures have been great, too.

But my home is not here, and never shall

be, and though complacency tempts me

to stay on your island paradise, to

taste sweet-nectared ambrosia from your pot,

like lotus, your good-natured love is bad

for my constitution, and I must hear

the call of my heart, left across the wine-

dark sea, which resides with Penelope,

Wife of Odysseus, in Ithaka.”

And though of ethereal light body,

delicate and deserving not of men,

but gods, Kalypso’s heart sagged heavily

beneath her alabaster mounded bust,

and she deceived him with her words:

“Sweet man,

you have touched me with your words. Conviction

of spirit wins out, and I cannot wish

you ill for your will. If you must love a

woman, you should love her fully, and do.

The gods smile upon you, but do not

forget as you battle tempest-tossed seas

that a goddess may choose to love

any man, but no man can choose a god.

I have loved you, and now lost you, and will

love the next man as strong as you.”

Her words

sank deep in Odysseus, just a man.

And in her eyes he witnessed betrayal

of a goddess, to herself, with her own words.