Halcyon

wisdom of want

they say the wisest never envy,
but wisdom does.
so she watched, grey-eyed, steadfast,
the laughter other women had
soft enough to melt marble,
warm enough to wake the mountains.

she was forged from thunder,
born from mind, not heart,
with no warmth, nor the mirror's praise.
she already knew too much
when she was too little.

a blessing, if you saw it like one
stunning brains, ravishing wit
but a curse,
if you saw it with a heart
that never won no one.

she watched others
win hearts with a fleeting glance,
sway kings, soften warriors,
while she herself
built cities, counselled heroes,
and was still called cold.

when wisdom envies want,
even the clearest thought clouds,
and drizzle falls on a barren soul.
what good is knowing constellations,
if no one wishes you a happy birthday?

beauty made the other women,
and worship followed.
one apple, one choice,
beauty over wisdom, as always.
and as legend has it,
even Paris's hand reached for glitter,
not reason.

the snakes on her shield hissed at vanity,
and no one dared come close
to her aegis logic.
but who can stop the wanting
of an olive tree craving
to bloom like the reddest rose?

her wisdom gleamed,
but not the kind men sang of.
the owl blinked at the dove
and understood the silence.
how would it be, she wondered,
to be worshipped with flowers,
and not feared for an intelligence
that could sear the world?

in her temple,
her owl blinked slow and knowing,
confused at the stupidest thought,
in her wisest mind,

you are the brightest diamond, it said,
and yet you dig for the cheapest gold.
maybe it was right.
or maybe it was wrong.

she was the wisest of all,
how could she ever be wrong?