b2ap3_thumbnail_256px-Moreau_Europa_and_the_Bull.jpgThough Terebus knew it was the time of his death, he gathered gifts of abundance to give each person. These were gifts that would help pass the cold season until he would return again: clay for making bowls, reeds for making baskets, glass and beads, paint and songs. Even knowing that he was to die, he pranced and tossed his horns, jingling the bells that had been tied there. When all the gifts were gone, he came and stood before Tellus, in her dark domain, mother of the soil who limits us all.

She spoke, “Terebus, we have spent and built, created and sold, grown and developed for a season. Now it is time to rest, to assess what we have done, to cherish what we have created, to enjoy the fruits of our labors.”

He answered, “Take my hide and make with it a drum to play upon, that I will be remembered until my rebirth.”

And he lowered his head before the goddess and she placed the point of the sword on his neck and drove it downward. Then she took his hide and built a drum, and gave it to Dionysus.

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Dionysus said, “This is the time to celebrate the reasons we work and strive. Break loose the muses of poetry and song! Make music and dance! Tell stories in my name! Tales of joy and woe, of valor and hilarity that speak to what it is to be human. For there are few greater gifts to the gods than human joy! Now, Rejoice in each others company! Eat of the gifts of the earth, drink the fruit of the vine or hive, and be merry!"

 

 

 

The Cold Season is published under a Creative Commons License. You are free to share or adapt with attribution to the author, Selina Rifkin.