An Unexpected Visitor


 

Pennelope sat at her loom weeping.

The children laughed and played at her feet.

Under her hands a bright tapestry unfolded

and in the cloth a scene took shape.

There was a glittering island

like a jewel set in the sea,

lodged in the grip of Poseidon.

His great hand came up through the depths

to hold the island just above the water line.

He was a massive shadow that merged into the sea.

Above the island constellations shown glittering

and the wanderers wandered, some looping back

while beyond the sky the gods held council.

Zeus sat upon his great chair

holding thunderbolts in his hand,

one face full of light while his other

countenance was darkness itself.

Zeus binds together the nihilistic opposites.

His name was Baal in Ugrit, the covetous one,

the upstart storm god transformed

by time and cultural transmission

into the lord of the Oak.

Around Zeus his family of bright immortals

passed the cup and sang the songs

oblivious to the fates of men

who wandered the earth below

never knowing when Hades would rise up

and open before them the gates of doom.

Neither did they know when Poseidon

would smite them as they rode upon the waves.

Three mighty brothers shared the rule

each presiding over a portion of the world

which they took from their father Kronos

who in turn took it from his father Uranus

who originally arose out of the earth.

 

Three brothers and three generations of Gods.

The trinity as threefold unfolding generations

and as the final triadic goal.

First, the primordial Chaos out of which

the split between heaven and earth arose.

Second, the birth of the Cyclopses and the Hundred-handed Ones,

an imperfect creation with unity and multiplicity were separated.

Third, the creation of the Titans, those earth bound ones,

giants that are confined to the Western Isles.

Fourth, is Aphrodite born from Kronos' fall

and out of the sea, the goddess of love.

Fifth, the upwelling of the Olympians who were destined to rule.

They were given supreme power by the Cyclopes through

their magical implements:

Helmet of Invisibility is the origin.

The thunderbolt is the spark that jumps from that origin.

The trident is the threefold nature of the third thing which brings the chaos.

So power of the last are established by the first.

Through the magical craft of the Cyclopses the Titans are handed over

to the Hundred-handed ones for binding and safe keeping.

All the stories of the absolute past

unfolded in the loomwork of Pennelope.

Images arose within the bright fabrics

from out of the chaos of the colored bundles of threads.

Visions would take form and grow clear.

They were woven out of the waiting,

taking shape through the endless cycle of days

inspired by the dreams that arose within the nights.

But they grew as if they wove themselves

under the hands of women whose

dancing fingers plied the ancient craft

as they sung the songs and listened

to the words of the bards and the gossips,

watched the children growing around the loomposts

and waited for their husbands to darken the door.

 

Pennelope was angry at her fate.

Twice abandoned when other women

had husbands who stayed with them.

Husbands who worked the island farms

and brought home goods to be stored away.

They would meet their husbands at the doors.

Some would smile while others greeted

their men with darkened looks and spite.

But all these women had husbands

who they saw daily even if only to argue with them.

They gave each other their mutual realities.

Pennelope envied those other women

who did not realize their good fortune.

She did not think of the women

who had lost their sons or husbands under Odysseus' command.

This thought was lost to her and she could only see her own suffering.

But then also she thought of the callousness

with which most men treated their wives.

Odysseus was seldom home, but when he was there

he was always kind, treating her with kindness and respect.

They continuously played small tricks on each other

that most others around them never seemed to catch.

Cunning in a woman is called conniving

and when it turns upon men it is called deceit.

They were cunning with each other

and love was cunning with them.

So her anger turned instantly to a deep regret

and she began to cry again at her losses.

Now both husband and son had vanished

beyond the shores of their tiny island home.

 

And so did justice prevail because of here inability

to sympathizes with the loss of the other island women

of sons and husbands prevented her own

consolation at this time of bitter loss after joyous gains.

As she cried Athena appeared unnoticed at her side.

The goddess stood in the shadows of the loom.

The immortal one reached out and touched

the half woven cloth that she had taught

women to weave together so long ago.

The threads glittered and the web began singing.

Pennelope looked up from her sobbing.

She saw a figure behind the loom,

 

"Who has come in uninvited to my room?

Are you mortal or immortal?"

 

Athena smiled and stepped forward into the light.

Pennelope turned her gaze from the bright

countenance of the goddess.

 

"Pennelope, I am the one who brought

you husband back to you from Troy.

The one who uncovered him from the oblivion

at the very center of the ocean.

The one who supported his vain struggle

to return to your side.

The one who first greeted him

on his return against all odds.

The one who protected his son from the suitors.

The one who prompted the others to make a way for him

despite the wrath of the other gods."

 

Pennelope looked again at the goddess and said,

 

"Thank you, O leader of our men to victory,

but now look at me abandoned yet again

and now with my oldest son,

will you return them to me again?"

 

Athena with bright flashing eyes

looked back at Pennelope without a word.

 

Pennelope looked down and contemplated the silence of the goddess.

 

"If you return them to me safely

I will make many sacrifices to you

throughout the journey and afterward."

 

Athena remained silent and then finally said,

 

"They are in the hands of another on this journey,

one who like me is sprung from our father Zeus,

my extreme opposite, my twin."

 

Pennelope, suddenly afraid, then said,

 

"Why then have you come to me?"

 

Athena replied, "On the last journey

as I helped Odysseus my twin

stayed at your side, protecting you.

Did you never notice his presence

among the suitors?

Now that the lord from Nyssia has taken

your husband I have come to comfort and protect you.

I am the goddess who teaches women their fine crafts.

I do not just lead warriors through the world of battle.

And you, Pennelope, are the most excellent in

all my womanly crafts, especially weaving."

 

Pennelope plucked up courage and said,

 

"But why must Odysseus endure these journeys

that take him away from me for so long at a time?

And why must I suffered from his absence

as he suffers the pains of journeying in the world?"

 

Athena of the fearsome shield answered,

 

"Be patient and accept your fate.

For you have his sons with you and under your care

and as long as they are there part of him is always with you

no matter where he is and he will return

if the gods will and he is able."

 

Pennelope then took courage

from the frank answers of Athena

and pressed her further,

 

"Why must women sit and wait at home while their men

toil in the world sometimes far from home

and many are lost on exploits which make little sense

to their wives and families who are left empty and alone."

 

Athena answered with one world, "Glory."

 

"But what do we women get in return

if it is not a lot husband then it is a long hardship of absence.

Our fate seems cruel."

 

Athena answered,

 

"Yours is darkness on darkness.

You are the spawn of Pandora.

That is women's fate.

It is the counter part to the extremes their glory

that comes from the berserker's rage.

Women are the source of all the trouble

causing men to fight each other.

Yet that conflict makes possible the pursuit

of glory that would not be possible

without the source of trouble that women harbor

for men in this world. Desire Desired.

There would be no glory for men out in the world

except for your accepting the burden of darkness hidden

within you ensconced in the interior of the home.

Women are the chaotic ones

hidden in the darkness of the abyss.

They are the ones who inwardly know Tartarus

which is as far below earth as the sky is above earth.

They like the Typhoon that has been locked away by the gods.

Light on light must be balanced by the deepest darkness.

Men, the drones, gather glory

and some like Odysseus bring it home

so it radiates and illuminates the darkness as they offer it to

the queens of their households.

These fair queens like the bees make a subtle honey -- ambrosia.

The amber that mixes the deeper darkness with the glory.

For other women the glory arrives only as a message of foreign death

or for others there is no message at all

only endless waiting for a return that never occurs.

You should sympathize with these other women

who never now the sweetness of their men's return, Pennelope.

You are lucky Pennelope because you have been marked

for reunion with your husband while many others

have suffered only permanent loss with no reasons.

You have been chosen to make the ambrosia that lures

the gods from their high retreat.

They interfere in your lives vying for the drink that gives life.

 

Pennelope said with a sigh,

 

"That return was good, very good,

almost making it worth the long dreary wait.

It erased the years as our love rekindled.

But now I feel the loneliness all the more sharply

for having our vows renewed."

 

Athena then asked Pennelope a question,

 

"Why do you think Odysseus struggled

so hard to return to you against all the odds

and against the will of some of the powerful gods?

Of course, you know that return was only possible

because the gods were at loggerheads with each other over him.

He slipped by only because of the disunity of the immortal ones.

Your reunion with your husband could only occur

because of the disagreements on Olympus."

 

Pennelope thought deeply and then said,

 

"Because we had become one life

through our marriage where

once there were two.

Once that fusion occurred

neither of us could forget the other.

We live with the presence of the other

regardless of their having departed

no matter how far or how long.

These tests have shown that this fusion of our lives

was complete like the fusion of our wedding bed to the living oak tree.

There is no deeper love than ours."

 

"But what of the loves of the immortals

for men or women mortals

and immortals for each other?"

 

"These are lesser unions than that of

a mortal man and a mortal woman.

The love of immortals need not overcome

certain old age and dreaded death.

Only a love that overcomes death has true depth.

Immortals with mortal lovers only know disappointment

whereas mortals who love each other and lose each other

to the gaping maw of Kronos know complete despair.

Hope that overcomes deepest despair is the deepest love of all."

 

Athena paused and thought deeply about these words

as if for the first time contemplating

some advantage in mortality over immortality.

Athena advanced and sat upon a three legged stool

before the loom as if she were learning weaving form Pennelope.

Pennelope resumed spinning the now golden threads.

 

The mortal woman and the goddess

sat in silence together for a long time.

The day passed between them.

Heaven and Earth revolving

while the breaths recycled

between the mortal and the immortal.

Till close to sunset Athena looked up

from watching the spinning and said,

 

"They have reached the mainland --

Poseidon has abjured and kept his promise --

the journey on land has begun."

 

Pennelope looked up from her spinning

and wiped tears from her eyes.

She felt a rush of excitement in spite of her self.

But then she sighed again and said,

 

"But what am I to do. How can I endure again

so long a waiting. For him there are the events

and the adventures of his journey and the company

of our son -- for me only endless waiting --

endless days as my youth vanishes

and my death comes ever closer."

 

Athena thought long on Pineapples words

as the sun sank and the sky turned various colors

deepening its hues turning into a black night.

When darkness arrived completely

she turned to Pennelope

who had lighted a lamp and said,

 

"You have waited long enough

and your patience has won you the closest thing to glory

a woman can hope for -- a good name as the goal of Odysseus

that he never wavered from in all his wandering

in spite of many barriers and enticements not to return to you.

So as he travels outwardly, you will travel inwardly --

You will journey without leaving your home

and thus you will preserve your honor

but that name will not be an empty monacer

It will from this time hence refer to your

complementary inward journey

that will consummate the journey outwardly

of your long suffering but clever husband.

Your cunning and his cleverness

synergize into a rare wisdom."

 

"But how am I to journey without leaving my home?"

 

said Pennelope suddenly afraid

she had called some horrible fate

down on herself without fore-knowledge

of what her long standing complaint

might elicit from the immortal.

Was this a gift like Pandora's box,

seemingly a bounty but full of woe?

 

Athena replied,

 

"You must look into your self to understand that!"

 

Then suddenly Athena vanished leaving Pennelope alone

with a horrible dread of what might happen to her

at the hands of the most clever and cunning of goddesses.


Copyright 1996 Kent Palmer. All Rights Reserved. Not to be Distributed.

Not to be stored in any electronc form nor published in hard copy without the Authors permission in writing.

Permission is granted to individuals to temporarily store and make one copy for personal study.

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