Written by: Manal Rabiey
I am Heb
I do not call out souls come to me when their voices quiet.
The gods created me from a touch of dawn
When Zeus wept for serenity
And Hera whispered: “Let there be in this palace a heart that does not fight.”
I am their daughter… but I resemble neither thunder nor thrones.
I was born in the lap of Olympus,
Not to shout, not to quarrel. When my father, Zeus, grew weary of wars mortal or divine
He would sit beside me, silent,
Watching the shimmer of my hands as I poured him the cup of immortality.
And in that stillness, he would smile,
As if I were the only forgetfulness he ever allowed himself to feel.
As for Hera, my fierce and regal mother…
She hid a smile for me—one she gave to no other.
She once said: “There’s something in you…
That reminds me of who I was before jealousy.”
I walked behind her, smoothing her veil,
Whispering to the wind not to tangle her hair.
I was not like Venus.
I did not adorn myself, nor learn seduction.
Yet she looked at me once and asked:
> “From where came this woman
who breathes as if she were a flower within a flower?”
I do not sing,
But my voice carries the dew.
When I speak, clouds listen,
And thunder softens its tone.
I pour the nectar of eternity for the gods—
But I never drink it.
Because I was waiting for something else.
I was waiting for Heracles.
I watched him from the balconies of Olympus…
Stumbling in fate,
Climbing mountains only to fall again.
He raged. He wept.
And then he swallowed his tears.
I saw him slay the ones he loved,
And love those time would tear away.
But I never hated his weakness…
I loved him because he was human enough to know pain.
I whispered to myself:
> “He cannot see me now…
But when the war leaves him,
When the noise ends…
He will come to me.”
And when his burning body rose to the heavens,
He returned—not as a hero,
But as a soul in need of shelter.
I embraced him, not as a goddess,
But as a woman long hidden in the heart of a flower—
A flower that waited for someone to understand
its shape, its color, its silence.
I am Hebe…
I kept peace in the house of Zeus,
Soothed the heart of Hera,
And waited for Heracles
As the clouds wait for the earth to throb.
I do not seek glory, nor acclaim.
I am a perfection unspoken.
A love that history does not record—
But only those worn by struggle can ever feel.
