Persephone's Tale

Ó 1998 Persephone

Many eons ago, another land, another time, another way of life, a story was told, or retold, or remembered. It was a time of magic, a time of the old Gods and Goddesses, of wars and loves and humans and the mingling of both. The story has been retold many times, in many places, in many ways. We none of us may know which, if any, of the retellings be correct, so we are constantly rebirthing those stories that touch our spirits. This is one of those stories.

In the beginning, I was named Kore because this was the beginning. And in that beginning was the flowers. I remember helping them to bloom and laying on their silky surfaces, smelling their rich aromas. They were the joy of my life and I tended each and every bloom with the care only a Goddess can give. My mother used to watch me at my work, rejoicing in it almost as much as I did. After all, She did teach me all I knew from watching Her grow the fields and the crops.

But, I was careless, as youths often are (even Goddess youths can be careless), and I was young and naive. So when I saw a bloom that was not of my creation growing in the meadow, I had to stop and look. It was not quite like any flower I had ever seen before, dark in its beauty, and with no scent to it whatsoever. I reached down and stroked it, thinking maybe with my touch, I could bring a smell to it that would fit its exotic look. But, even the touch of a Goddess did not seem to affect this strange bloom. So, I reached to pluck it from the ground, and it was at that time I was taken.

Taken from the Mother that had loved me all these eons. Taken from my beautiful flowers, my innocence stolen, my world shattered. Taken tumbling downward into an unknown land of darkness. I could hear my mother weeping over my loss, crying out to the heavens to bring me back, to return me to my rightful place. I heard the weeping of those below me, the sorrow of those that had gone before. I felt the prison that now held me and I myself began to weep.

In the time to follow, I mourned what I had lost. I despised He who had brought me to this forsaken place. And I rebelled! I refused all of His gifts, all of His offerings, all of His words. I refused to eat or drink, allowing myself to become a shadow of what I once was.

And in my shadow state, I began to wander. I met the shadows of those that had come before and opened my arms to comfort them. I found the river of forgetting and took those that were lost there, showing them that in the leaving behind, the new will open. And I began again to see. My self began to return, but I noticed that in its return, it had changed. I returned to the prison that had held me and looked upon myself, and saw within its surface only a remembrance of what was there before. I turned from that image and in a rage tried to smash the mirror that betrayed me!

But, then it called to me, called to a deep spot within my soul to look again. As I turned my gaze back to its surface, I saw the child that had been stolen, the woman that had grown in its place, the lightness of the past innocence and the luminous darkness of the new awakening. Anger still gnawed at me over the loss, but then a tenderness began to form at what had become.

A bowl sat on the table filled with fresh pomegranates. Hunger got the best of me at that time, and I ate but a few of the little morsels. I felt their juices flow down my throat filling me with a renewed strength. I gazed at the seeds in my hand and remembered the joy of the new blooms, the planting, the nurturing.

My Mother's appeal was finally heard and the Gods called me forth. They told me I was a captive no more and could return to my play in the flowers. Tears flowed from my Mother's eyes as She heard their words and fell upon the dry fields, untended for so long in her lament. Crops sprang up and began to grow. The humans rejoiced at the return of the Mother that had abandoned them for Her search for Her lost child.

I listened quietly to the proceedings and then stepped forward. I wish to speak, I told them. Many years have I spent in the underworld, many years of pain and solitude. I once was a creature of unbridled joy, but now have heard the lamenting of the deceased. I have seen their state, have witnessed their needs. I miss the joy of the new blooms of the Spring, I miss the smells and the tastes and the feel. I am no longer the Goddess I once was. During my time in the darkness, I have changed. I belong to neither the light or the dark, and yet belong to both. I will return to my flowers, I will return to the dance and the joy. But, I have also tasted the fruits of the darkness, and will now and forever be a part of that darkness.

Because of this, I shall no longer be Kore. Because of this, I have not been Kore for a very long time. I am now a creature of both worlds and as such, I shall be called Persephone. I must return to the land of the underworld, for there is much work for there to do. I left here a maiden Goddess. I was stolen from my home, my land, my family. You all stood by knowing what had happened. Not a one of you lifted a finger to aid in my release. The Lord you sold me to, my captor, my raper, my villain holds his power no more. You sent me in innocence into bondage and cruelty. But, in your sending, you have made me a queen in my own right. What was taken from me has been returned. My prison has now become my domain, my kingdom. I shall return there for six months of the year, into the darkness. And in the Springtime, I shall return to witness my flowers as they emerge from that darkness as new life.

Never again shall I step foot on the mount of the Gods. I shall rule my kingdom and my domain without the intervention of Your presences. And only I shall have this ability to traverse between the worlds. Should any other enter my dark kingdom, they will find there is no exit. You sent me to this world, and now it is mine. The souls mine to tend, the spirits to send when I see fit. You sought to dominate and destroy me, but you have failed! I shall be remembered far past the time of the Great Gods. I shall be an icon to the women and the Goddesses of the strength of the feminine. I shall show them that we are not so easily subdued.

And every spring when you look upon the work of my fertility, it shall remind you of this. Your men shall bring my women flowers to show their respect of the gift of life that women alone can bestow. And those that show themselves worthy, shall be comforted at the end of their days. And to the women, I shall teach what I have learned in my dark travels. They shall not fear the dark, for I shall teach them of the secrets I have learned here. I shall show them how to plant the seeds in that darkness and return with them in the Springtime to see their flowers bloom. I will teach them to speak their truths and to hold them in their hearts. I will teach them to fight and to sing, to laugh and to cry, to love and to hate. And I will teach them the secrets that remove their fears when their days are done.

I am Persephone! Look well upon the work you have wrought!