Summer Constellations: A Summer Romance

In the summer sky now, the solstice behind,

the Virgin, the Lion, and the Great Bear have moved

westward, leaving the northern sky’s vista

from my window and replacing them these warm

summer nights with the Eagle, the Swan, and the Lyre.

 

The eagle of Jupiter, Aquila, carries Zeus’ thunderbolts,

but also carries away to Olympus, stolen, the young boy

Ganymede, the bearer of the cups of the gods. Thus honored,

this symbol of freedom, strength, and beauty, the Eagle is placed

in the summer sky, still at Zeus’ command; or perhaps summer

calls for a more romantic tale of love spurned and deceit, Zeus’

advances rejected by Nemesis, Goddess of indignation

and retribution. His love thus refused, he turned himself

into Cygnus’ Swan, pursued by Aquila’s Eagle, to be rescued

by Nemesis, as she would do – Zeus, with evil intent, will not

be denied – and tricked into Zeus’s arms, the eagle and swan now

placed together, eternal, Aquila and Cygnus, a reminder of Zeus’

trickery, a summer romance celebrated in the Greek and Roman skies.

 

And what of the lyre, the third constellation, Orpheus’ music

flowing so beautifully as to enchant every person, every

things, all things, calming the wildest breast, making the trees

blow in the winds, and pacifying the tormented souls of men,

his lyre a symbol of balance, of elevation of the soul,

a luminous guiding force against the dark forces and the chaos

of nature, strong enough even to bring back from hades

his beloved wife, Eurydice, snake killed on her wedding day,

and Orpheus’ music reduced to despair and anguish, misery and sorrow;

but in hell there are conditions to be met to conquer death itself,

but unmet - Orpheus so lovesick, perhaps, looking back at his beloved

still in the underworld’s clutches - she must now remain, in Hades’ realm,

leaving him to wander, dejected and despondent, forlorn in love,

this the second sad summer romance of loss, and the lyre, placed safely

in the summer skies serves a reminder of balance, of music’s power,

of Orpheus’ virtues given to us all, a poetic, harmonious nature,

inclined toward grace and refinement, intelligence and kindness,

but we have become so blind and deaf, unseeing, not hearing the lyre’s

enchantment, nor calmed by its music flowing, our souls unpacified.

 

So in this summer journey westward toward the Autumn solstice

and the changing of seasons, remember the Eagle and the Swan

and the Lyre, their stories of romance and deceit and music, balance,

life remembered this midsummer of our own lives, seeking, perhaps, love.