Twin Flame at the River Styx (1)
By: Patricia Anne
Tags: Romance, Odyssey, Soulmates, Twin Flame, Mythology

Twin Flame: A Narrative of Queen Penelope of Ithaca

Episode 1: Twin Flame at the River Styx

(image credit: Penelope. Dante Gabriel Rosetti, 1828–1882)

©copyright registered Twin Flame: A Narrative of Queen Penelope of Ithaca

Editorial Note: I want to say that I am intentionally breaking boundaries with punctuation and dialogue with Penelope. I say I am “breaking the container” because the container can stifle creativity. Sometimes it can enhance creativity too — but mostly not. So at first the reading can be challenging but that’s also intentional as it demands reader participation. These are some of the theories I developed and worked out in my career as a writing teacher. It is fun to see them come to new fruition now. Let’s begin!

This is a narrative of Penelope and Odysseus, Twin Flame lovers of Ithaca. Follow episodically as in the olden days of yore. We begin with episode one. It proceeds thusly: Fair Penelope has welcomed her soulful lover home from his fateful journeying and King Odysseus is tired. He is in need of succor and Penelope’s warm embrace. For years he has conquered countless foe and met his many challenges. Homer tells the tale for all time. We listen still.

Now Odysseus has been away a decade following his valiant struggles in the Trojan War. His travel home was met with many obstacles and he was lost for dead. The people of Ithaca clamored for a new king. Queen Penelope resisted, such was her love for her Odysseus and his for her too unsullied by this time and this travail. So reader our lovers meet this very night to rewed! They remarry and rejoice in the passion that is a Godly gift to them and all of Ithaca too. Let us listen in as Penelope speaks at last to her dear lover.

Come home with me Odysseus Penelope says. We will consort tonight in the bed you crafted by your own artistic hand at our nubile bliss. It has lain empty without you for I took up other chambers in my despair. I could not lie there without you. Penelope forsooth the bed still lays planted firm? How the supple olive tree limbs support our weight and sing our passion. Odysseus chuckles. I have heard that music in my dreams oh love. Say it is not chopped asunder and carted off for prize money. It is not Odysseus. It is perfectly well preserved and we shall see our maiden bed soon and hear its song. Here I have prepared a tonic for you. We will drink together. This will soothe your soul and mine and we will discharge the foul memory of this distance and time. We will rejoice in our body communion soon. God’s Grace is surely upon us now love.

I have watched and waited through your many adventures. Eons of them my love and now at last Nirvana approaches. Athena comes and Portia sometimes too to whisper in the astral hours of your undaunted courage and bravery I swoon. And now this is our own twilight, our red-gold sunset, our purple eventide, our majestic orange glow morning. We celebrate. It is here at last. I lost you for dead and now Athena brings you as a mortal man disguised like a beggar. I feigned. I knew you at once. The bedpost story notwithstanding. You named the olive branch you did I knew you would. I stood aloof and silent but I knew you. O my Odysseus how could I ever not know you? Now we are about to rejoin our twin souls in sensual union. I delight. Praise the Gods on Mount Olympus for bringing you home to me. I died many times Odysseus now I am born anew. Come and bathe with me in this golden Godly light.

Penelope knits a funeral shroud.

Penelope. Persephone.

I am the Queen of Death. Persephone.

The Queen of the Underworld. Persephone.

I am the Flower Maiden. Persephone.

Queen Penelope and Persephone are the self same soul.

My King let us condole together now. Before we wed tonight I must know more of your struggles. You come to the castle in your beggar’s disguise. With Athena’s help you take me unawares and surprise me so. The shroud nears completion. I was to choose a husband at the new moon. And now here you are before me and I can do nothing more than weep in your presence my love. Take me in your arms now and hold me until I calm. Odysseus obeys her edict and says my love I am shaking with pent desire and longing for you. Let me take you now and then we talk.

Odysseus no my love I cannot. Leave me be now and let us sit apart. You are led by a prideful pain of unknown origin. I sense in you a deep wound and caustic too. Something within you burns and troubles you. I have no way of ascertaining the origins of this raw and troubling pain. Is it possible for you to describe it for me now for the future rests upon its announcement and its resolution. We can take not one step further until you open this pain to me my love.

Alas I cannot open this pain my Penelope. In vain I have struggled against it. Forsooth I have struggled with a mighty fierceness. My struggle has led me to the desperate shores of despair and I have sought the comfort of the lotus blossom. The lotus blossom quieted the call and demand of my petulant soul, dear lady, and I am wont to continue in its deep and dark embrace. Nay verily though I passed through this shadow once before and saved my men from the lotus embrace. They struggled mightily against me and I against them. I wrest them back to the ship but many men were lost to me and now I am lost again to myself my dear Penelope. I cannot say what troubles me. Penelope exclaims Odysseus my love forsooth. Take this tale away from my ears. Come enjoy the honeyed wine with me. You are in great need of my succor. Only with me will you rest but I must know this account.

Now will Odysseus lie with his Penelope in their castle at Ithaca following his return from sea? We shall see. We shall see.

Penelope pursues her passion. Tell me Odysseus. I deserve your reply. What is the painful point now my King? There is nothing you cannot tell your Penelope. We are we. Only with you I lie in truth. I love only you. Penelope says my brave King I longed for you when you were away at sea. Ten long years I knit and rend for you. I have been made barren in your absence. I long for your child Odysseus. Odysseus I must have your child what can we do? Alas and woe. Penelope weeps, cast down, then raises her tear stained face to her lover. Yet still Odysseus my body responds to you now like a young girl just altared. What do you make of it my King?

Penelope. Odysseus rushes forth for embrace. He buries his face at the bend of her neck. Penelope. Penelope my love your body enchants me still. You enchant me. The smell of you calls me home. I will take you now with renewed vigor and passion. I will. Have me Penelope. Your long waitfulness has not been in vain and we will surely conceive a child. I ask the Gods now for a purification to settle our account. Here it is. I beg you. Here it is. Now listen and take me at my word. O Penelope here it is. Penelope sounds alarm. She says what King what!

On my voyage I was besieged by demon harpies who stole my seed from me my love. They yanked it loose from whence it grew cold and stale in wait for Penelope, the honored cherished wife of King Odysseus. I cried begone you demon harpies. You are not my love Penelope who is chaste and pure of heart, mind, body and deed. You are temptresses all. Go. You will not bind me to the masthead to have your way with me. No. I toss off the shackles of your vain deceit and your hostile miasma. Yet my true pure and chaste Penelope. I fell then. I did. I became weakened by their malicious and aggressive succubine energy. I fell indeed. More than once. Woe. But in this dishonored falling I remembered my true and committed love to dear Penelope and I exclaimed No Harpies No! I have but one true command and she owns my heart, my body, evermore. Faithful, waitful, prayerful Penelope. She who is mine above all others. I struck out successfully against them then and I made it home to you at last Penelope.

Odysseus, Penelope exclaims, this report strikes hard in my heart. What are you saying to me? Demon harpies? Calypso’s cave no doubt I heard tell of it and banished the teller. I had him killed Odysseus such was the torment of his beseechment. Now I have just told you that my womb is barren and I long for our child and you taunt me with this tale of consort with unclean women. Women. Odysseus. How many women? How am I now to discharge this and allow you entry into my body, my soul? O I long for a child Odysseus. I am sickened. Is it not too late for us? How will we ever recover from this woeful absence? This traitorous thievery? I am bereft. My heart is wrenched asunder. How could you do this to me Odysseus? Weeping weeping.

Penelope wife I commanded a league of men in the battle of the Trojans. My military skill is now legendary. You know this Penelope. It is a success and a cunning that comes with great price my love. I am known across the land for my manly prowess and skill. Women ensnare me with their trickery and guile. They say ‘Lo Odysseus come hither and they flash their hips at me and say I am a tasty treat for you. I attempt to fend them off Penelope but you are not a man. You are not able to reconnoiter the weakness of a man in lust after the supple body of a woman. It is a torture known not to the fairer sex and By Jove thunderously good thing Penelope. You know this to be true. Where would we be as a people if a woman fell prey to the same beguilement as a man? No! It is a masculine weakness only Penelope. Now I must beseech you to honor me with your perfect understanding. You are my wife. Come take my hand. Lead me to your bed. We will resolve to speak of this no more. Pray my love you are the sun and moon and stars to me. Heaven above adores you. You are the air I breathe and I receive sustenance only from your body, brain, and breath of life.

O no Odysseus you woo me greatly with your clever tongue and silver oratory. But what of Helen the fair one who you courted so aggressively and lost to that foul miscreant Paris? If not for Paris’ trickery it would be Helen you bed and not poor Penelope. I am the one discarded. I am not a maiden for my womb is barren. Truly Odysseus you love me not. Let me weep now into my pillow. Call to the servant and away. I can speak no more of this tonight. I can take no more from you Odysseus. My heart aches from ten thousand little deaths and now this Odysseus I cannot. I cannot. I will not recover. Away. Away. Servant!