an open letter to the gods and a reaffirmation of faith: To Bacchus

{just some background to this series: this past semester, in my literature class, we studied Ovid's Metamorphoses, a poem--epic in length but not quite in structure--that follows the story of humanity and the Greek/Roman gods from creation to Augustan Rome. There are some very complex thematic elements that Ovid brings up including the nature of change and humanities' relationship with gods and authority, that have made me think critically about what I believe. Hence these drabbles.}

...

Your mother, raped by Jove. You, born out of your father’s thigh. Delivered by nymphs; raised by your aunt. God of everything countercultural and sexual—of disorder and chaos. God of the grape vine and wine that stupefies.

You are not my god. Like the daughters of Minyas I do not fear you. But unlike Orpheus, your bacchantes cannot silence my song.

Because my God has no beginning and no end. He restores order and instills beauty where chaos once reigned. He is the vine and he provides me with life—stupefies me with his grace.

This is my God.