When I was but a small boy
I heard the tale of Hercules (or Heracles and whatever else he is called by historians)
But his name was, by no stretch of the imagination, what stood out in his story.
Rather it was his mighty deeds – his labours overcome.
His trials which bound him and
The actions he took to vault the obstacles.

He reminded me often of Samson
Wearing a lion’s pelt as he wandered the earth.
He reminded me of God himself
Holding up the earth on his divine shoulders.

Now only one trial does stand out.
The heads of Hydra.
A bold serpent of many heads, was Hydra.
He did make a mockery of nature and of God.
For each head that was killed, cut off,
Two rose to avenge it
All tainted with each a pestilent maw only Beelzebub could devise.

A problem that seems solved is only taking time
To double its mass;
To treble its fortification;
To quintuple its chance of eating alive its victim,
Who by fighting only makes it multiply again.
It would seem better to defend oneself and
Wait for the beast to tire or
If it would not
To find some means of escape.
Only a brave man could stand and fight until he had somehow won,
Not knowing how such a victory would come about.

Hercules, I recall, did defeat Hydra,
Though I know not how.
I wish I did know.
How valuable such knowledge is.


*By Dominic J. Kearney