Socrates
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I am walking Athens with Socrates
And see the world through his eyes
Barefooted with white robe
Tied in a knot with linen rope
I follow him like a shadow
Starring at the faces of Athenians
Who lived ago a couple of millennia
I see Xantippe chasing chickens
And a bunch of little children
Chasing her in the square of Athens
Screaming laughing, and clapping
Socrates passed by quietly as if he
Did not see the vivid loud scene
Deeply immersed in his thoughts
Teaching his students maieutics
Socrates did not have time
For insignificant petty things
He always thought big
And about important things
He had to go to the war
And was the only one
Who was walking slowly
Glancing back in case
The enemy was chasing
Him after the battle was lost
And he once more
Would have to protect
Beloved city and its
Citizens in the battle
He was awarded a medal
For such a brave act
But he gave it away
To a young man passing by
On the street one day
Believing that he did not
Need awards and other
Shiny meaningless things
He walked market place
Filled with beautiful items
And he wondered how that is
That there are so many things
That he did not want
Socrates was in dangerous business
Of telling fools that they are fools
And it did not last very long
As Socrates would have guessed
If he cared about consequences
Fools like to hide under fancy
Words and elaborated lies
They don’t like to be called
By their true ugly names
But Socrates did not know
How to lie nor he cared
He never felt scared
So he always told the truth
Till one day he was accused
Of conspiracy to destroy
The old ways of the world
Teaching young men
How to think on their own
That was the biggest crime
In Western history of all times
And he was the first philosopher
Sentenced to be executed
For telling the truth
I was standing behind him
In a dark cave where he
Was locked till the execution
I saw young Plato crying
And desperately trying
To convince wise man
To escape the gloomy jail
But Socrates as always
Looked straight into the eyes
Of his students and said
He could not do such a thing
It would be against his
Precious teachings
To be true to himself
And to his words
To escape as a guilty man
Avoiding execution
While all he did was
He told the truth
Socrates believed he
Was an innocent man
But he thought that he
Had to obey the law
Designed by Athens
So he took a cup
Filled with liquid poison
Took another piercing look
At young men that he was
Surrounded by in the cave
Smiled at them swiftly
And in one gulp he put
A stamp on his word
That has never been
Even once proven wrong
Up till this remote day
I saw the grieving faces
Of his young followers
And eyes filled with tears
And moans of despair
And the pain of the Athens
That lost the only man
Who loved them the most
And the bravest philosopher
In the history of the world
I hold Socrates in my arms
When he stumbled
And started loosing sight
His white robe shone
In the darkness of night
Like angels wings
Spread wide in a swing
And his words were written
In the cosmic pattern
Of the sky of that fatal
Unfortunate night
The skies became dark
And I saw bright robe
Floating towards the dusk
Light like a lonely bird
Crossing the burning sky
Where the next morning
Was slowly opening eyes
And I cried grieving
For the world that never
Learned to cherish those
Who loved it most
Copyright © Ruta Skendeliene | Year Posted 2016
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