Dionysus Knows His Lady

Dionysus Knows His Lady

Her forlorn tears I feel within me,
Dripping saltily down cheeks fresh as peaches;
Just as pink and soft, too, as untouched fruit.
I see her as if she lay here before me,
Yet she is miles and thousands of years away,
Collapsed in the sand of a foreign island.

Wild grapes curl lusciously around the edge of the beach,
Twined seductively with ivy and the trunks of mature fig trees;
They shade her body, which heaves with sobs.
Cleansing tears relieve her of the horror of abandonment,
Of loss, and grief, of lonliness and fear,
Her resentment leaking out, watering the vines.

The vines transmit the sound of her sadness,
Carrying it to Dionysus, Lord of this isle,
Who approaches on silent, bare feet, to investigate.
His youthful, virile form towers over her,
And the scent of ripened grapes wafts about him,
Mixed with the spicy smell of his olive-hued skin.

I can see him as he leans down,
One hand strangely hesitant as it nears her pale flesh.
Dark, crazily curling hair frames a rugged, bearded face,
A face that is ageless despite its youth.
Lithe fingers twine into her hair,
And she looks up to him with a gasp.

His dark eyes envelop her entire being,
Drawing her in, silencing her like a gag.
Her heart drops into the earth below,
And her loins burn as if the hearth fire is within.
His dusky breath caresses her face
As he lowers to the sand beside her and kisses her hard.

He pulls her into his arms, holding her tight.
She doesn't fight - how could she, being held by a God?
His vines tickle her as she is pressed back into their lush depths.
This moment lasts forever, his hot lips nibbling at hers,
The rushing waves of ocean spray and ecstacy overtake her;
And he, for all his Godhood, joins her oh, so human joy.

(c) Rev. Allyson October 19th, 2007