An Ovidian Metamorphosis; Poseidon’s Gift

{{#ifeq: | | {{#ifeq: Justin S. (Whiteflame) | |

   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | || 
     Author: Whiteflame  
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   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame) |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame)  
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 {{#ifeq: Justin S. (Whiteflame) | |
   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | | Authors: ' | 
     Authors: Whiteflame 
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   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | |
     Authors: Justin S. (Whiteflame) |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame) 
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}} {{#if:| — see also [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}

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<poem> Aglea, daughter of beauty was her name, Nay, she did beat upon the doors Of the gods, Demanding they change her, Maker her faster, fleet of foot, Different from the form she was born, For the man she loved did not take interest In the slow;

                  And he thwarted her approaches,

And discarded her letters and words Of love,

              For he was, like Tantalus before him,

Punished with his obsession, and punished By the gods with it,

                                So that no woman would win 

His heart, and he would never grasp his golden grape. And so she pled to the gods, Interrupted their homes on Mt. Olympus, Demanding that they allow her to Win the heart of the very man they Forsook not to.

                         For sooth, the gods were angered,

But not without a sense of pity, For Aglea was innocent, A matron and priestess, Only compelled by Eros’ arrow, Not by a will to accost the gods, And contradict their ordinance, their decree, They could not deny her. And yet, they could not withdraw their punishment, For the man’s father, Kapaneus, Was cruel and treacherous, And enraged Poseidon with his treatment of His steeds,

                 And so was punished to have his line die,

With his son, who delighted not in mortal women, But in the very steeds his father tormented, And so he would not marry, Nor his seed caress a woman’s womb, To the ends of an heir to Kapaneus’ house. And so the gods sought to uphold, Both divine law and mortal love, And answered the damsel’s plea, Drawing upon acts of old; Demeter and Poseidon, For the damsel’s worship went to the temple of Demeter, maternal goddess, Poseidon’s love and envy, Whose favor was hers...

And so the gods changed the damsel, Altering her form, bone, and sinew, and flesh, And sculpted her as if she was re-birthed, And she cried out in agony, For this was not what she wanted, And so resistance became physical pain, The pain of change, For although she loved the man, She desired the way to be her way, And desired her love to be human love, And so the transfiguration continued against Her will, painfully so, Her cries grew shrill and sharp, Somewhere between the words of humans, And the neighs of horse, until at last she only Neighed,

               And bones changed,

Spine lengthened, And a tail grew from her back, And brown hair sprouted from it, The hairs of a horse’s swat, Which Poseidon first gave to the race To protect their flanks, And so prevent the winged menace from spoiling Their beauty with irritation and stings. Its flowing trail of strands undulated like The tides of the Sea-god’s realm itself, And it set by her rump, Like a stream weaving through the woods, Waves of hair gently brushing her tan hide, And her feet and hands changed and were Sculpted into hooves clad with horn, Fingers merged into a single toe, For Poseidon’s grace does not need twenty to stand, And she winced for the numbness shocked her Maidenhead and her mind, as never had she held Beauty,

            Without the grasp of hands.

And her back arched and neck arched, Both into a powerful curve, The noble and elegant and awesome form Of a curling wave upon the sands. Her arms, no longer arms, and her legs Grew long and thin, cannons and hocks Her hand bones fused into fetlocks, For beauty is shaped in balance, And how wondrous to behold such strength In such narrow and fragile limbs, And support for such a massive, yet gentle creature? And her muscles blossomed in her rear and chest, Her stance widened, her belly, which would carry The weight of her race and the burden, yet gift Of a foal, sunk down and came to rest, All upon her haunches and legs, And her breasts shrunk, no longer to the lust of man, But innocent and tucked between her legs To nourish the life of her race, So to raise a foal to health with the Warm milk of her tits. And a wild, yet wondrous Mane sprouted from her proud neck, a sign Of the matriarch, each glossy, Yet coarse strand tangled, yet flowing. And wild, yet wondrous thoughts filled her head. She wanted to gallop and prance, And then, her face began to change, And Poseidon with his chisel worked it into A long and graceful muzzle, With velvet lips, and vibrant, flaring nostrils, To breath in the very existence of the air, And a long tongue caressed her broad teeth, Stained yellow as the elder race of the earth, Made to chop even a single blade of grass, And not to waste a leaf. Her eyes became wide and dark, mirrors To the natural world, And her ears stood like two sentries Upon her head, and twitched lightly in the air. And there she stood, her transformation complete, An exquisite image of the Sea-god’s pride. She was as though an orphan, Whom Poseidon, the great father, Embraced in open arms, Yet still the change wasn’t pleasant, For no change is, But now she gazed untroubled Through her dark eyes, beneath Her delicate, yet bristly eyelashes. And she snorted and breathed in the world, And her scent expanded into the world.

And the son of Kapaneus, Hyppolytos, Freer of horses was his name, The tamer and lover of chargers found her, Most beautiful of her race, And fell in love with her form. He vowed to take care of her Like he had no other, For she would bear the greatest of her race, And give herself fully to its continuation. And he always admired her, As she bore many foals and Forever had the love and affection Of the man she once loved, Though she forgot it in her transfiguration; Her thoughts became those of a mare, Her desire was fulfilled, though she belonged, To a different creature, and loved the stallion, Not the man. They were together, but apart In a perfect unity, such as only the gods Could have bonded. And she lived to a long age, And she and the man died together in battle. Upon her back, he rode to Elysium They traveled together, And upon reached the blessed realm, Hyppolytos took the form of a stallion, And forgot who he once was. The two existed together and Gave birth to the steeds of the wilderness, Who were untamable and wild; Few exist now, but their line Continues...

To all ye mortals, who read this poem, Change is painful, yet it can be rewarding, Our desires are ne’er fulfilled, ‘cept in some way we do not perceive. And beauty is most present in this perception. </poem>

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