Poem: "An Overflow of Your Heart"
This poem is spillover from the November 3, 2020 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired and sponsored by ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ng_moonmoth. It also fills the "mental or spiritual distress" square in my 11-1-20 card for the Sense-Ation Bingo fest. This poem belongs to the series One God's Story of Mid-Life Crisis.
"An Overflow of Your Heart"
Volac was miserable.
He had been enthusiastic
about following Shaeth as
God of Evil, and had even tried
following Shaeth as God of Drunks,
but hadn't been able to secure
the transition from one to the other.
Shaeth, as his god in both cases,
was therefore stuck with the overflow
of Volac's profound unhappiness.
When Shaeth spent all day
grumbling about this, Trobby
finally said, "It's too bad you can't
just fob him off on someone else."
"Maybe I can," Shaeth murmured.
A few of his old followers, like Belfegar,
had succeeded in making the change.
Most, like Zargon, had remained
vigorous in their pursuit of Evil
even without a patron deity.
Poor Volac seemed to be stuck
in the middle, neither able to switch
from Evil to Drunks as a theme for
worshipping Shaeth, nor content in
manifesting Evil without a patron.
There was, perhaps, a third possibility.
Shaeth cast a scrying spell and went
to find his old high priestess Agleca.
When Shaeth reached his old temple,
he saw his daughter Desdemona
toddling across the stone floor,
smoke and brimstone wafting up
from her tiny pattering feet.
"Oh," he said. "She's walking."
Agleca grinned at him. "It's new.
She's taking a bit longer to grow than
a human babe, but I can be patient. You
should see what she can do to plants!"
Well, that explained the odd brown patches
randomly scattered in the grass outside.
"Volac is not so good at waiting,"
said Shaeth. "Has Desdemona
started reaching for people yet?"
"I'm not sure," Agleca said thoughtfully.
"She likes the other followers well enough,
but she doesn't seem possessive of any."
"Mine mine mine," Desdemona chanted
as she stomped around the temple.
"Any humans," Agleca corrected,
smiling at the tiny, adorable tyrant.
"I would like to present Volac to see if
she'll take him," said Shaeth. "He isn't
a great match for my new sphere of influence
and he's not satisfied with unsupported Evil."
"It's worth a try," said Agleca. "Bring him
to her and we'll see what happens."
Shaeth left her with a bag of jewels
and a scroll of drinking songs for
his part in supporting Desdemona,
then went in search of Volac.
A few hours later, Shaeth
found Volac sighing over
a quantity of beer that had
stubbornly refused to brew.
"Your yeast died," Shaeth said.
"I know, I know," said Volac.
"I'm just ... not very good
at this work, My Lord."
"I have sensed your misery,
Volac, and I have an idea of
what to do," Shaeth said.
"Yes, please," Volac said.
"I will try anything, My Lord!"
"Come with me," Shaeth said,
holding out a hand to Volac.
When they reached the temple,
Volac turned to him with wide eyes.
"Have you returned to us, My Lord?"
"I have not," Shaeth said, "but I
believe your salvation may lie within."
Agleca came to greet them as
they entered the temple.
"High Priestess," Volac said,
bowing low before her.
"Volac, Shaeth, it is grand
to see you again," said Agleca.
"Enter at your own risk and be
welcome within these walls."
Then Desdemona streaked
across the room, the floor
smoking in her wake, and
flung herself on Volac.
"MINE!" she squealed.
Shaeth's end of the link
went dead with the finality
of fine spirits burning off,
the last thing he could feel
from Volac a stunned joy.
"Congratulations," said Shaeth.
"I now pronounce you goddess
and follower. Volac, you take
good care of my daughter or
I will drown you in a barrel of
wine and then strangle you
with your own intestines."
"Yes, father of My Lady,"
Volac said happily. "I'm
sorry that it didn't work out
between us, though. I did
enjoy our time together, and
I tried -- but well, I suppose
it wasn't meant to be."
"In the end, worship can
never be a performance,
something you're pretending
or putting on," said Shaeth. "It's
got to be an overflow of your heart.
Worship is about getting personal with
your god, drawing close to your god.
Or in this case, your goddess."
"MINE!" Desdemona said again.
"Yes, My Lady," said Volac.
"Yours forever and ever, in
this world and all the rest."
Shaeth considered that
a good conclusions, and
went home to his own priest.
* * *
Notes:
"In the end, worship can never be a performance, something you're pretending or putting on. It's got to be an overflow of your heart...Worship is about getting personal with God, drawing close to God."
-- Matt Redman
ng_moonmoth. It also fills the "mental or spiritual distress" square in my 11-1-20 card for the Sense-Ation Bingo fest. This poem belongs to the series One God's Story of Mid-Life Crisis."An Overflow of Your Heart"
Volac was miserable.
He had been enthusiastic
about following Shaeth as
God of Evil, and had even tried
following Shaeth as God of Drunks,
but hadn't been able to secure
the transition from one to the other.
Shaeth, as his god in both cases,
was therefore stuck with the overflow
of Volac's profound unhappiness.
When Shaeth spent all day
grumbling about this, Trobby
finally said, "It's too bad you can't
just fob him off on someone else."
"Maybe I can," Shaeth murmured.
A few of his old followers, like Belfegar,
had succeeded in making the change.
Most, like Zargon, had remained
vigorous in their pursuit of Evil
even without a patron deity.
Poor Volac seemed to be stuck
in the middle, neither able to switch
from Evil to Drunks as a theme for
worshipping Shaeth, nor content in
manifesting Evil without a patron.
There was, perhaps, a third possibility.
Shaeth cast a scrying spell and went
to find his old high priestess Agleca.
When Shaeth reached his old temple,
he saw his daughter Desdemona
toddling across the stone floor,
smoke and brimstone wafting up
from her tiny pattering feet.
"Oh," he said. "She's walking."
Agleca grinned at him. "It's new.
She's taking a bit longer to grow than
a human babe, but I can be patient. You
should see what she can do to plants!"
Well, that explained the odd brown patches
randomly scattered in the grass outside.
"Volac is not so good at waiting,"
said Shaeth. "Has Desdemona
started reaching for people yet?"
"I'm not sure," Agleca said thoughtfully.
"She likes the other followers well enough,
but she doesn't seem possessive of any."
"Mine mine mine," Desdemona chanted
as she stomped around the temple.
"Any humans," Agleca corrected,
smiling at the tiny, adorable tyrant.
"I would like to present Volac to see if
she'll take him," said Shaeth. "He isn't
a great match for my new sphere of influence
and he's not satisfied with unsupported Evil."
"It's worth a try," said Agleca. "Bring him
to her and we'll see what happens."
Shaeth left her with a bag of jewels
and a scroll of drinking songs for
his part in supporting Desdemona,
then went in search of Volac.
A few hours later, Shaeth
found Volac sighing over
a quantity of beer that had
stubbornly refused to brew.
"Your yeast died," Shaeth said.
"I know, I know," said Volac.
"I'm just ... not very good
at this work, My Lord."
"I have sensed your misery,
Volac, and I have an idea of
what to do," Shaeth said.
"Yes, please," Volac said.
"I will try anything, My Lord!"
"Come with me," Shaeth said,
holding out a hand to Volac.
When they reached the temple,
Volac turned to him with wide eyes.
"Have you returned to us, My Lord?"
"I have not," Shaeth said, "but I
believe your salvation may lie within."
Agleca came to greet them as
they entered the temple.
"High Priestess," Volac said,
bowing low before her.
"Volac, Shaeth, it is grand
to see you again," said Agleca.
"Enter at your own risk and be
welcome within these walls."
Then Desdemona streaked
across the room, the floor
smoking in her wake, and
flung herself on Volac.
"MINE!" she squealed.
Shaeth's end of the link
went dead with the finality
of fine spirits burning off,
the last thing he could feel
from Volac a stunned joy.
"Congratulations," said Shaeth.
"I now pronounce you goddess
and follower. Volac, you take
good care of my daughter or
I will drown you in a barrel of
wine and then strangle you
with your own intestines."
"Yes, father of My Lady,"
Volac said happily. "I'm
sorry that it didn't work out
between us, though. I did
enjoy our time together, and
I tried -- but well, I suppose
it wasn't meant to be."
"In the end, worship can
never be a performance,
something you're pretending
or putting on," said Shaeth. "It's
got to be an overflow of your heart.
Worship is about getting personal with
your god, drawing close to your god.
Or in this case, your goddess."
"MINE!" Desdemona said again.
"Yes, My Lady," said Volac.
"Yours forever and ever, in
this world and all the rest."
Shaeth considered that
a good conclusions, and
went home to his own priest.
* * *
Notes:
"In the end, worship can never be a performance, something you're pretending or putting on. It's got to be an overflow of your heart...Worship is about getting personal with God, drawing close to God."
-- Matt Redman