An Elegy to Janus – NaPoWriMo #27

Derived from the Napowrimo.net prompt for Day 26.

An Elegy to Janus
Ianus Geminus has swung shut and Portus has done his work, locking the seal and signifying an end:
To wars, to all transitions;
Cardea groaned in protest as the doors came to their conclusion,
The hinges had stayed open so long to tell us of the obstacles that stood in our path.

Janus:
You looked to the future and the past, oblivious to what was in front of you,
Too entrenched in possibilites and what had been to see your present place,
Transitions weren’t your strong-suit, even if you presided over them –
They came and went and there you were: somewhere else.

Two-faced, you hid the worse one often,
But it always came out, Janus, and Cardea bore the brunt,
You made the sweetness of the new seem supreme and stretched it out half a year,
But all things rot, Janus, even you, and there came a day when the fruits became fetid and plunged perilously from the tree.

You pitied yourself too much, Janus, mourned losses loudly and deeply,
That the pious passed through you to Cardea,
More concerned with hearth and home, ignoring your doorways:
How it angered you,
How it blinded all your eyes,
How you turned on your lover, lashing out,
How she fell out of love with you but still cared for your welfare.

You came first in every ritual, Janus, and it made you selfish,
You saw yourself somehow superior and deserving,
Just because you were the Beginning: it is meaningless,
Vesta hovers over you now, staunch in your cessation.