Monday, November 17, 2008

Patron

I was born on the Feast day
Of my namesake
Another reluctant hero
Whose name meant crown
Stephanos said the Greeks

I imagine his reluctance
In the way he wore his crown
Cross askew and awkward
Eyes set in sadness and disbelief
At the barbarism of his people

Yet there he stood firmly
At the gates of Vienna
At the dawn of the second Millenium
And defiantly told the Ottomans
You shall not pass

Even the pagan Magyars
His flesh and blood
Who resisted conversion
Were worthy of his protection
And ultimately, mercy

Who is to say of what I'm made
Merely by dint of a name
A birth date, not a birthright
Yet here I stand at my own gates
Worthy in my defiance.



1 comment:

Mary F. C. Pratt said...

Hey Steve,
We're with you through this. I love your use of poetry and images. And if there's anything we can do--R&R time in Vermont, whatever, our door is open to you always.

Love,
Aunt Mary