The Sun’s Treasurer

Born with naught to call my own,

Haunted by dreams to attain treasures;

Lustrous stones prosperous and fair,

Folly of many a pirate and hero’s plight.

I wanted the jewel the brightest of them all –

The great amber star to grace the dark world 

Whose glow even the moon must borrow.

The abode of Helios, Hyperion’s pride,

Astride the chariot of spark and flame

There was my guide in his sprint across the skies!

Before the fearful king drew the curtains,

Apollo’s majesty was my Elysium –

The Eden my mortality would not allow,

The great golden sphere, as if birthed by wealthy Pluto:

A gift to his brother, the king of the skies. 

My father, blessed by the gods,

With fire’s hands and wisdom’s steel

Fashioned a maze for Crete’s great shame,

Tartarus for the abomination of man and beast.

The puzzle Minos bade my father and I share

With the insidious creature the inventor imprisoned –

Gone was the amber! The jewel of my days!

As I wandered the dark halls that reached no end,

My brother was this darkness, I told myself,

The child of my father’s genius;

Be good to him for your own reward

For in the great skies awaits your treasure.

Yet the pitch tunnels and chambers

Heeded no scream or call:

Perhaps the walls of black dared not wake

The wrath of the sea’s curse upon the land.

Bounced off the walls, reverberated my pleas

The gloom a silent bearer to my grief –

A boy devoid of the wealth of his youth

Left bankrupt by royalty’s cowardice.

At last! My father, the blessed of the gods

Fashioned our escape –

The salvation of birds and pretty insects of flight

Instruments of freedom, vehicles of the sky.

Wings of wax and feather rekindled the flame

My golden wealth had lit within me –

The sun’s flame called out once more

And rushed the passion and joy of my heart!

 I fasten the straps to secure my flight,

Drawing in a breath, nervous and excited:

I longed to see my friend, the illuminating light,

The object of my boyish flush;

Now I possess the medium by which

I may finally approach the glowing prize,

The fruit of my patience – the apple of the gods. 

-Arka Jyoti Roy