Written by Blue.
Performed at GOG's Samhain Ritual, by two different casts, on Saturn's Day
November 4th and Sunday November 5th 2006.
Honey my words, O Muses,
As I attempt to sing a story of Thrice-Born Dionysos,
Beloved of Olympos.
Zeus, in the form of a serpent, lay with Persephone.
And from the union of the God of Thunder and the Queen of the Dead
Came Zagreus, the Bull-Horned.
In his paternal pride, Zeus, Lord of Olympos
Placed the infant on his throne,
Blessed fruit of divine passion.
Lady Hera saw and was enraged. No legitimate heir of hers was thus
And so the goddess-queen conspired against the bull-horned interloper.
At her bidding the Titans gathered, intended assassins,
To lure the child away from Zeus' throne.
They tempted him with toys and called to him in sweetened tones.
Zagreus resisted fate until they offered him a mirror.
The mirror, in which we are cleaved, creating what is seen from we who see,
Caught the child's fancy, and he climbed down from his seat.
And in that moment
--That terrible moment, the Titans fell upon Zagreus, and rent his flesh.
Listen, you who claim reverence to the gods! Grieve for the pain of lost
Proclaim the injustice of a sacred life, cut off so soon!
O you faithful, break open your hearts and speak your truth in the
presence of the gods.
Call to them in voices of praise and mourning.
You bless their names, though you may curse their deeds!
For piety is found in the veracity of emotion.
Mortals, lift your voices to the Kindred, as all sing praise.
We weep for Zagreus, but do not despair,
For every adventure begins with a tearful goodbye,
And every flower blossoms from a seed torn apart.
Love and remember Athena, ever-resourceful.
The grey-eyed goddess saved Zagreus' heart and placed his essence in Semele,
Zeus' mortal lover.
Blessed are you, daughter of Kadmos!
Princess of Thebes who gave her body and her life to save the sacred soul
For from the lost child is born Dionysos, Bringer of Ecstasy.
Fair-faced redeemer who bestows the bounty of the vine,
Freeing mortal man from the mundane.
The Liberator, unbindable by humanity, our short-sighted greed or our
Frenzied Dancer who lures us singing from the cities,
The Laughing God formed from unspeakable grief.