Birth of Aphrodite

in pagan •  4 years ago 

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There on a lonely beach of rocks and wind strewn sand, the waves crashed upon the shore. In a land almost forgotten by those who came later, in a time remembered as myth, the sky darkened, the air roared its defiance, and from the very heavens fell that which Kronos sliced from the body of his divine father. Into the sea it fell, splashing and foaming the very sea with its presence. The waves once clear grew briny and cast their foam upon the shore, and from the water rose the light of love. A girl of such radiance and beauty, that those who came later were glad to not have seen her, for surely blinded by her would they have been.

She rose from the sea, the salty foam caressing her body as it fell down toward the waters below, and the sunlight kissed her hair like a lover kisses a hand of someone truly beloved. The waves seemed to part for her, revealing the rocky bottom of the beach in colors of aquamarine and green. And in their parting they sang a song to the lovely being that walked forth. From the four corners, as the wind blows, there came breezes of subtle power as the seasons themselves were made to manifest before her power. The Horae drew closer and the lovely girl’s feet touched the dry sand, and it wept at being so blessed by her touch while the air longed to never end its caresses upon her pert breasts and curving hips.

Her smile was a knowing one. Her eyes like shifting gems cut to shimmering perfection. Her lips were cherry red and moist like the dew of morning. She walked forward, and the earth sighed in splendor, releasing the hidden life of seeds long dormant, growing to flower in her wake. Love she was, and she was born of the sea and foam where earth and ocean meet. Love she was, and the Horae bid her welcome, dressing her in shades of lavender and gold, as resplendent as the dawn, and as sheer as the fogs of Autumn, for none would seek to hide the beauty and power of her form. None would veil the richness of her silken skin or the transcendent allure of her face.

Her hair they braided and decorated in shells and gems, their sparkle a mere imitation of her own, and when she spoke the world was relieved by the soft and subtle power she conveyed. A power like the flowing stream that was oft ignored, but left to could change the shape of mountains. Birds sang for her in an infinite chorus of voices, and the serpents coiled upon their eggs in honor of her. The wild beasts of the forest ceased their hunt, and the very stars in the sky sought to break through the light of the Aether that they may see her just once.

Lovely Aphrodite, richly crowned lover of laughter, giver of bounty, protector of the foreigner, born on the shore of Cyprus was born, never to be forgotten.

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