Charmed by Neoplatonic talk
In search of faithless prone discourse
To meet Hypatia at the dock
Drawn to the lighthouse beaming source.

So gathered those who came to hear
From Hellenism’s faded might
The thoughts that held her in revere
That dared to rift the truth from trite.

From learning shared is more coaxed out
And so, the light does breach the dark
To open doors of cast redoubt
In omnipresent void, a spark.

The eager mulled about each day
To form a lusty, thirsty crowd
That saw old praxis fall away
And breezes lifting cheerless shrouds.

Hypatia knew too well her place
But spurned all those grown ill-content
Who saw in pagan ways, disgrace
And churned in ever more resent.

While godly force about her grew
That mindless clung to certain faith
Empowered to repress the new
And feared this fearless, learned wraith.

The outraged cult was on her hard
Then dragged her to their holy court
There hacked her naked limbs with shards
Thus, did this fount of hope abort.

Long since the site of books was burned
And now Hypatia in the ground.
Saint Cyril smiled at what he’d earned
A thousand years his righteous crown.

Copyright Paul Heno 2010