Chronos was a god. A father. One who destroyed his daughters and sons in a fit of fury.

Swallowed them up like the gargantuan terror

Of ill and disease

Consuming the future, suppressing the next generation

This was his-story -

Until, this patriarchal concept was no longer a notion.

Until the older generation not only gave in,

but appreciated the younger

as the younger appreciated them

Until Chrono’s story, his being, became an anachronism.

Until he became she.

Under Chronos new reign, under her leisure and great expanse of overflowing time...

You wake up when you do. The sun blinks into your eyes (Chronos?) and lifts you into existence again, the warmth like an embrace. 

You want to swim. Splash! The water caresses your neck. All is pristine. 

You want to dance. So you do, and the possibility of anyone laughing at your dance moves doesn’t cross your mind. Because you’re hand in hand, and everything is joyous and everything is good.

The calm thrill of wholeness.

You live in a place where you do the things you want. Your world is smaller in some ways - you worry less. But it is also larger at times - you as if the earth has re-announced your connection with all loving, living things.

And then you realize in this place,

Chronos is no longer a gendered deity, but the air around you, the care that fills the lungs of your family and friends, and the live beating souls that continue to better the world.

Chronos is no more, and yet, as it goes, in the right way, the new has suppressed the old.