Love, goddess, oldest of the gods, older than the father, born in the turbulent foam of the sea, Aphrodite. Her child, playful, mischievous, irresistible, the passion, the impulse to another, yet even he conquered. To create, to bring into being, to join, the bringer of madness, to live with, to live without, to kill for, to die for, sadness in its lack, joy in its presence, fulfilled, made whole, torn asunder, cloven in two, in many, in one, in another; as a child one begins, growing one continues. Forced upon, diving into, driven by, suffered and suffering, brutalised and exalted, fallen and risen. Her breath defies us, compels us, defines us: without it, what are we? If is all we need, is that not terrifying? Would you have it, for it to be taken? It is not ours to control, or to tame; but to chose? As its tides come and go, defying reason, embracing passion, kindling unreason, being found by it, being lost in it.

From the gods two gifts, one of fire and one of toil; the first to nurture, the second beguiled, seduced, deceived by beauty and desire, as suffering is unleashed upon the world. Toil, work, suffering; perverse gifts of the gods? Abandoned hope… and yet, what are we without this? Was it our weakness, or our strength, for which that lid was lifted?

And then a God came and love was gone as angry men denied, repressed, shattered and banned, cloaking her with the chains of denial. Yet, even He, all-powerful, had succumbed, “for He so loved…”

A re-published, softcover version of this book “Ancient Dialogues” is available for purchase.