Gian Lorenzo Bernini 1621 . Galleria Borghese Roma

The story of Proserpina is a challenging one to me

Not because of literature

No

Not because of this

I find myself bewitched by the behavior of its myth

It strikes a thorny cord

And nicks me on the wrist

It recounts imagined sins that are clearly carved and told

Still

Its skin of aging stone stays so smooth with growing old

This sculpture is wicked

Yet

No one sees that side unfold

No

They don’t want to meet

 The dreadful story told

The Rape of Proserpina as sculpted by Bernini

It stands alone enclosed by an ancient shell in Rome

Throughout four hundred years

Its skin of aging stone has stayed so smooth with growing old

And I sit here at its feet grasping at its meaning

It is lit with garden light

Glowing gold and dreaming

Surrounded by its lovers

Their eyes in awe are beaming 

Still

I hear echoes in this room

Heaving

Screaming

 Sinful and moody

The antiqued air I breathe in here

Drafts the sense so faint

But truly

There is darkness in this statue

Though

Hidden by its beauty

  'The Rape of Proserpina' - c.2009 - Tim Cantor