“Yvonette,” William-Adolphe Bourguereau, 1867, WikiArt.

Too young to understand, mornings and
Evenings we prayed, foreheads touching
Floor, melodic words we chanted, flower
Petals, grains, and figs, offerings to the
Gods, protection and direction, crops and
Orchards failing, ancient tomb found field-
Plowing, point striking stone, no ordinary
Rock in field, smooth marble emerged by
Hand-digging, gleaming white when water
Washed, as if lintel never buried.

Thus, my parents dug, as did families from
Nearby Attic farms, same plight, another
Year of poor crops, children bringing food
And water. Lo! Emerged marble tomb, rock-
Wall burials, for decades we farm plowed
And back labored upon ancient cemetery,
Death’s dark depths lingering beneath our
Feet, awaiting sunlight awakening. We
Prayed, forcing open bronze tomb door,
Such blessings or curses gods impart.

As children at feet of gods, my parents
Prayed aloud, my father who discovered
Marble slab, at first daylight, pried open
Heavy-hinged door, within found seated
Marble Demeter, not bone burial but single-
Chambered agrarian temple, goddess gold-
Flower necklace adorned, golden stamen
Filaments, bees perched, foil-stamped,
With gold dust pollen grains, ancestors’
Temple to bountiful crops.

“The Priestess,” William-Adophe Bouguereau, 1896, WikiArt.

Alas! In rustic chants, our voices raised to
Demeter, offerings of figs and flowers, skies
Alive with swarming bees, welcomed busy
Buzzing, workers escorting queen to hives,
Bees to orchards flew, pomegranates and
Almonds, apricots and avocados, messaging
Bees tree-high winging. All this, now old
Enough to understand Demeter’s divine
Mysteries, I am Melissae, gold-leaf
crowned priestess, Protector of Bees.

For more ancient Greeks and bees, see this linked article:

Social profiles