Maidens of the Evening Star, Daughters of Atlas Goddesses of the Evening, Children of Nyx Live far away from here beyond glorious oceans On the boundary of the Night encircled by stars with pales hues of sunshine in the land of the Hesperides;
Mirth and music spring from the land of the Hesperides Where they tend a garden of divine golden apples Guarded by the faithful dragon Ladon with mighty wings Swooping four winds, bellowing a crescendo of flames That envelope the circle of divine parameter against the mortals Till the impetuous half-man, half-god Hercules darts an arrow Dipped in the blood of Hydra piercing the heart that dies in sorrow shedding the tears for love for his goddesses, the Hesperides;
They mourn for the death of their beloved Ladon, whose blood flows From the still warm heart and meets with tears from the diamond eyes; And the gods of Olympus bring the slain dragon among the stars And give him a house of his own named Draco where he can watch always Over the garden of golden apples in his beloved land of the Hesperides.
The wizard of rain, the knight of nature, Goes to the hill in the twilight of the dawn With a falcon sitting on his right shoulder And rising to the virgin sky before a new sun in search of the meadow where a moon was drawn.
The wizard of rain, the collector of wonder, Gathers dewdrops from the fresh frost of grass Into a crystal bottle and reads his grimoire As the falcon flaps his wings in the air And brings the forces of nature in abundance.
The wizard of rain, the wondrous sorcerer, Calls the names of gods, demons, and angels Wielding his wand in a symphony of nature Amid the swaying leaves of the grass and trees, All in harmony bringing rains from the sky.
St. Frances de Sales’s advice, “Have patience with all things but first with yourself.” is no more so than with the three weeks’ heartbreaking ordeal to win back my cat Toro’s trust in me. His traumatic visit to the veterinarian now seems to dissipate across the feline Elysium slowly, or so I want to think. He is not hiding under the bed in my presence, becoming a sweet writing company on my desk once more.
I have recently watched a YouTube that goes viral about an unlikely friendship between a stray cat and a young woman, which makes me think of my relationship with Toro and what it means to build trust between two lives. The woman found a stray tabby cat around her house and began to acquaint him with food. She named him “Tiger,” not least due to his perspicacious tiger stripes and adorable feistiness, giving him a distinct personality and charms that were all the more endearing to the sensitive woman who was also in need of company in her solitude.
Thenceforth, they became complementary to each other for consolation, security, and most of all, love. Tiger is still his feisty self, and the woman is still trying to adjust herself to his whims and caprice. Still, they feel comfortable in their presence and love. The tears welled in the windows of her soul when she said that building trust between two took time and patience. You can’t make someone love you arbitrarily by force. You don’t need a love spell or magic potion to enslave someone into your desire of possessing the body and mind, as the ancient Greeks and Romans used to. Without Psyche, Eros would not/could not have culminated in perfecting the art of love as a primordial god of Love.
Toro is in some way like Tiger: his name means a little tiger in Japanese with his distinctive stripes, and M signature proudly marked on his little forehead. Although not as feisty as Tiger, Toro has a remarkable personality of adventurousness, curiosity, playfulness, and resilience, all affectionately wrapped in his good nature. But I don’t take for granted that wonderful Toro is my cat, and therefore, I deserve his trust and love. Animals, especially pets, also have hearts that pump up the blood and feel the feelings. I regard them as friends, companions to enrich our existential human lives with a touch of sentimentality that we hardly express when we are among our species in fear of being regarded as a sign of weakness. And I am always thrilled to feel his little heart at my feet as a friend.
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