Dionysus and Ariadne

Dionysus lay in the darkness, a thin slither of golden sunlight creeping along the floor to illuminate his body. Resting back he felt the warmth renew his bones, as oil was applied to his head. Opening his eyes he saw Ariadne knelt beside him. She cradled his head, and fed him wild honey from the hive, her love for him blossoming still further as he gazed up at her.

Three months passed this way, until the horned moon ascended into the sky, and a leopard entered the cave. It lay down at the feet of lord of the wild beasts, until soon they left the mountaintop cave. The valley below was blue in the moonlight, and where beyond, lay the great outer ocean. It was there that they watched the departed souls migrating along the starlit path.

Higher they climbed through the spheres, the sun rising and flickering over the snowy peaks of Mt Olympus. As they approached, the gods came down, Zeus in their midst. The goddess Hera offered them the two handled Kylix, in both symbolic welcome, and to mark the end of her persecution of him. Dionysus smiled at his father, lowered his head to Hera, and turned to his beloved wife. Their journey had taken them through the shades of the dead and across oceans. Into the lands of the east, through states of physical matter and animating spirit, until, finally with his ascent to the realm of the stars, Dionysus could take up his immortality and offer it to Ariadne. The daughter of Crete accepted the cup and drank the nectar, a belt of gold weaving its way around her waist.

The celebrations lasted well into the night, but they soon slipped away towards a pinnacle of rock. Ariadne watched the earth slumbering below, arrows of moonlight falling upon the cresting sea, rocky islands, and verdant green valleys. Ariadne saw it all revealed to her as Dionysus removed the diadem from her head, and threw it heavenwards. The favourable winds caught it and set it in the sky, the nine gems smouldering like dancing fires in the night. The Corona Borealis, an eternal symbol of his love for her.

Painting: A Nymph In The Forest by Lenoir Charles AmableEndFragment