I, Semele, made love to lightning,
I am the cup,
the vessel divine.
I know what mysteries are.
I have been made pure by their brilliance,
hallowed and hollowed,
aglow and growing,
the rod that grounds, the earth that accepts the seed of heaven.
He roils in my womb like a cosmic unfolding, the roaring
one, who will be savior,
shifter and shaker
He shows it to me in dreams
whispers tales to me.
Sweet child. A mother should be the storyteller,
But this is no ordinary son.
And I, always impetuous, foolish princess,
I swallowed more sacred than I should
have, I could have
said no, but I did not
want to, I wanted it
all - god and glory.
They say my lover destroyed me, that I pleaded for proof.
but that is not my story.
Mortals born of mortals,
sometimes a hero or two.
But this bull child can be more,
In my bones, I know.
Simple enough - a sacrifice,
a mortal life for an immortal one, so it goes...
Death comes for all,
Yet I asked for this.
“Don’t hold back this time, it’s time
to burn. Tell him I chose this.
I am his first initiate.”
Play the drum
play it for his fearless heart
and I will go down dancing,
my frenzied ashes alight upon the wind
to the sky I have lovedand the storm I’ve born.