Ceres, the High Priestess & the Rite of the Pomegranate ©

You called to me, I listened.

     Standing in a large hall watching the Roman goddess Ceres I could hear instructing others in how to tend the countless halls where marital unions took place. There were ceremonies faced with ill planned itineraries; others by awkwardly matched couples, while in other instances, unions appeared well matched. In all of these cases, Ceres did not pass judgment, for her job was to ensure there were plenty resources available for the celebrations to follow. The goddess tasked me with cleaning her house and informed me of our forthcoming move. Unsure about this passage of “ours,” I carried out all duties despite feeling that only I would be the one moving. Her eyes were attentive to my tasks though there was much for her to administer. Was she my mother? If she was, I felt our connection to be distant. Why did I feel this way? Regardless of this feeling, I continued the errands which were endlessly abundant.

     As I worked, situations arose and were brought to my attention, frequently interrupting and prolonging the ability to absolve my own chores. Lined up on a narrow table before of me were swords that were each distinctly decorated and of innumerable lengths. Sitting aside each other in a long line, I soon understood how each situation required a specific blade, requiring meticulous selection by my hand, to resolve mishaps associated with the festivities. After spending extended periods of time in sword selection, I decided to rise and give myself a break. Looking down at my body I saw I wore a brown linen skirt and sandals. My body and mind begged for time away from my arduous tasks. Walking out of the house of Ceres, I was met by others similarly dressed. In an instance, I was greeted and invited to engage in a delightful pastime of warrior games. Playfully, others ran around me. Delighted by their disposition, I joined the game. I heard the roar of other kin who cheered us on. A heavy rainfall commenced without warning, though the sky had been overcast for part of the day. Our feet pounded the ground as leather sandals mixed water and soil, covering our legs from the knees down in mud. In this manner we continued our games of chase and attack.
     Hesitantly, I bade farewell to my companions acknowledging the importance of my return to the house of the goddess for whom I needed to carry out my final tasks of the day. Upon completion, I bathed only to find my clothing replaced with flowing garments of white linen. Looking around, I was unable to see or hear anyone who may have entered my quarters. Nevertheless, I slipped into my gown. In doing so, the sun peered through a large break in the clouds. Looking down into my clean hands, a cluster of pomegranate seeds appeared. They glistened in the early evening sun like freshly polished rubies. I noticed these seeds appeared when I thought of something in particular or felt a certain way. This idea drew me deeply into a state of contemplation. These seeds were a key. Ceres watched me from a short distance and smiled at me with joy of my personal realization. She was not my mother, yet in her house I resided for this period of time. My mind was clear, my hands were clean and my clothes were fresh and new. The goddess wished me well on my trip, blessing the seeds with her essence of abundance and prosperity. Plenty would always be provided.
     Lastly, the Priestess who accompanied Ceres said: these are the seeds which you have earned through labor and humility. Your brethren have worked in the same manner as you, awaiting passage into the other worlds. This is eternity. This is power. This is the grace of the gods shinning down on those who’ve labored to gain entry. Your work was never in vain, though at times, you felt it so. You now begin anew. Unique challenges lie ahead; take up the appropriate sword for its' warranted action. Remember the law. The king smiles upon you. You are accompanied by eternal brethren. Cross the worlds. Exercise prudence. This is the contract. The goddess and Priestess fade away, signaling the end of the rite of the pomegranate. Instantly, I “awoke.”


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