Chapter 9 The Ninth Labor
The Stymphalian Birds
[Verse 1] The Master spoke from a place of peace: “O son of God, let struggle cease. Yet now another path you tread, The ninth great Portal lies ahead.
Beyond it waits a swamp of fear, Where iron-beaked birds draw near. Find the way to drive them far, And free the land from their cruel war.”
[Chorus (Keynote refrain)] I see the goal, I reach the goal, And then another stirs my soul. Through trial fierce, through shadowed skies, The path unfolds before my eyes.
[Verse 2] Through marsh and mire he made his way, Where fetid waters darkly lay. A thousand wings in discord cried, Their shrieking blotted out the sky.
With iron beaks and talons strong, With feathers sharp like darts of wrong, They swooped on him with fury wild, But Hercules stood firm, and smiled.
[Verse 3] He struck with club, with arrows flew, But countless more around him grew. The sun was veiled, the air was torn, By wings of death, by cries forlorn.
He paused, recalled the Master’s word: “Beyond the mind, the flame is stirred. Not force alone shall win this fight, But higher vision, inner light.”
[Chorus] I see the goal, I reach the goal, And then another stirs my soul. Through trial fierce, through shadowed skies, The path unfolds before my eyes.
[Bridge] Two cymbals bronze he raised on high, Their clash resounded to the sky. A sound so harsh, so sharp, so dread, It woke the living and the dead.
The birds, confused, in terror fled, Their cloud dispersed, their menace shed. The swamp grew still, the silence deep, The land at last could breathe and sleep.
[Verse 4] The sunset glowed on waters clear, No shrieking wings, no cries of fear.
The Master hailed him: “Well begun, The labor’s ended, the task is done. Yet mark this truth, O son of man, Each goal achieved reveals the plan. Another waits beyond the door, The path goes on forevermore.”
[Final Chorus (crescendo, repeat)] I see the goal, I reach the goal, And then another stirs my soul. Through trial fierce, through shadowed skies, The path unfolds before my eyes.
[Outro (gentle, reflective)] The swamp lies calm, the birds are gone, But still the pilgrim marches on. For every goal attained in sight, Reveals another, bathed in light.