Demeter’s Nightmare

The first part of a series devoted to Greek mythology. There’s so much that we can examine in this world of Greek Gods, so we’ll narrow the focus to the Greek goddess, Demeter, awakening from a nightmare in her bed, alone.

Demeter awoke from her dream in a cold sweat, sitting upright immediately upon the light entering her eyes.

Was it a dream? It seemed so real.

Flashes of the dream, the nightmare really, ran through her memory and she wrinkled her brow. Her curls on her forehead were matted down with the already evaporating sweat.

She looked at her bedside. Of course Zeus was nowhere to be seen — probably attending to matters of state, training his perfect body, or if she was lucky he was promenading in the gardens still smelling of her. She hated to think of the other possibility — Zeus warming the bed of another lover or wife.

As always, whenever her mind was clouded with anxiety, or her heart was full of strong emotion, her powers were uncontrollable. The flowers by her bedside had exploded while she was in the throes of the nightmare. She could still remember the look of pain and rage on her daughter, Persephone’s face. The expressions seemed so real — the look of anguish and rage in her eyes, the furrowing of her brow. Her daughter looked like an adult in the dream. And yet, it was only a nightmare, wasn’t it?