The Ship of Theseus Paradox

Unbound from Crete, its thirty oars could fly;
It split the wine-dark like a driven nail.
Its sail was black against the scarlet sky,
A gonfalon of death that would not fail
The mighty task. “Unwind the thread,” she said,
“And it will lead you back.” But crawling through
The labyrinthine dark of mortal dread
To wrestle with your demons can change you.
How many cells of sunburned skin were shed
While slinking down those twisting halls? And how
Much sweat was lost or how much blood was bled
While wrestling bravely to fulfill his vow?
Theseus used her thread to find his way,
But who or what came back from Crete that day?

J. Davidson Hero is a bibliophile, computer programmer, an award-winning indie film maker, and most importantly, a husband and father.

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