Attis: A Christmas Enigma

Statue of the self-emasculated daemon Attis at Hieropolis, ancient cult center in Anatolia of the mother goddess Cybele

“Too late, too late,” she cried, and waved her wooden leg.—Anglo-Saxon incantation

Christmas Eve foreshadows Sol Invictus, the Victorious Sun,*

whose name's forgotten, though his war is won.

The lady vanishes, was not understood.

What was the leg she waved? Why is it wood,

lacking a better prosthesis art thinks good?

Too late for what? A light perhaps brighter?

Mysteries all day the unhinged saints recite.

Those providential tales are neither wrong nor righter.

“But what about my child!” the bald ingénue rehearses.

Deep in the mise-en-scène, deballed Attis** curses.

Why does stuff like this bung up the brain?

Speculation chimes with rhymes; it smirks.

Slowly your ancient memories unwind,

plane going down—at least that works!

* https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sol_Invictus

 ** https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attis

December 21, 2025