When Echo Was A Boy…

Tiresias witnesses another time

Ahead of the end of the days

In which Echo was a boy,

 

And in which Narcissus was a woman.

Who am I?

Who am I?

 

One cries out loud,

Whilst the other merely repeats and cries.

Tiresias weeps at the unfairness

 

Of his vision,

The conundrum of what befell

Them both, unsolved to sightless eyes.

 

Though unsighted, Tiresias is moved

By the plight of the Echo boy

And the Narcissus woman.

 

Echo, his name lost through

The dimness of time,

Barely speaks a word

 

Although his thoughts betray him;

Of his love for Narcissus

And his wish to be with her.

 

For Narcissus, Echo is just a sound,

A voice in her head that repeats

All she needs to hear,

 

All she already knows

And all that in time

Tiresias believes will come to naught.

 

Echo saw her beauty, the intelligence and told her so,

For Narcissus always showed interest in the thoughts

Of the Echo boy that gave her compliments in her mind

And who, if he was real, would have made such an attentive maid

For her to praise,

Knowing that the tribute would be repeated back to Narcissus.

 

Echo was an appealing boy, forever told, “You are so pretty”,

“You are so beautiful” but only told this to show his voice

Was capable of resaying the words back to those who paid him heed.

Narcissus locked Echo away. When he spoke she wanted to hear the voice

Of her own thought and did anything to keep her feelings intact.

For both Echo and Narcissus needed each other

To keep from starving to death of love.

 

“Who am I?” asked Narcissus.

“Who am I?” repeated Echo,

As they both grew frustrated in their appointed role,

The Echo finally does disappear into the wind

And gets carried along with the dust.

 

To Tiresias, he saw Juno

Had played a cruel trick upon them both

And whilst he coped with the understanding

Of there being

More untamed Earth than raging ocean,

 

To Narcissus and Echo

Who Am I?

Was more than a demand to the Heavens,

And even if Juno could answer

She would smile with disdain.

 

Narcissus looked in the mirror and saw her reflection

Juno more than usually cruel,

The hunter and the hunted, in each other’s

Place and Narcissus bit her lip,

Unashamed in love, and shrieked and yelled

Causing Echo to feel the pain and repeat again.

 

Who am I?

Who am I?

I ask you Jove to compel Juno

To answer me, to show the true

Likeness of Narcissus and to let Echo

Tell me how beautiful I am.

 

Who am I?

Who am I?

I have no voice of my own,

Yet my ideas are mine alone but

I repeat all that is implied

And inside I ask Jove to let me die.

 

Tiresias, far in the past,

Sees the mirror

Reflecting both souls

 

And begs of Jove to intercede.

To stop Juno’s malice

And give Narcissus and Echo peace.

 

“This far off time,

So cruel to beautiful Narcissus

And her slave Echo.”

 

Narcissus and Echo interlocked

One inside the other, inside the other,

Inside the other, the conundrum of their lives;

Which the Gods or design made them need each other

“Who are you indeed?” They ask of each other silently,

How dare you be so delightful?

 

Jove, majestic, all knowing

Concedes that his wife sees more

And begs the empress to release them from their prison

“But one will surely perish by doing so oh Jove,

Who would you see capitulate to the other?”

 

“Would Tiresias acknowledge the question once more?

Would the blind seer dare suggest that the Ocean recoils

At the thought of taking on land?”

“Who are they?”, Juno asks, “They are each other!

They are the feminine in the masculine

And boy in the girl, they are Human.”

 

Echo fades,

Pining away

At the thought

Of not telling Narcissus how beautiful she was

Over and over again.

 

Narcissus’ inner beauty

Then remains unseen

And she starts to weaken

And wilt, the need to be cherished

As a Human being now destroyed!

 

The question

That remained upon their lips

Forever haunting the past

Who Am I?

Who Am I?

 

Ian D. Hall 2014.