I am not frozen in time.
Too many of you do not realize
that gods, too, can change and grow;
we are not fixed and unmoving like our marble statues.
I was a child, once, a young woman,
playing in the field of flowers
with the nymphs who served my mother,
but in an instant, that all changed.
Why, then, do so many of you
see me still
—see me only—
as that innocent child?
Do you think that all I have seen,
done, endured, enjoyed
has no power to move or change me?
Evolution is a process
that not even the Deathless Ones
are exempt from.
My lord and my love Hades
brought me down from my mother’s sunlit world
to his dark and chilly realm
where there is only whispering and wails
when there is not silence.
A goodly portion of the year, I sit atop a cold marble throne
instead of warm earth crowned with spring blossoms,
and I see myself garlanded in gems
—or bones—
instead of fragrant blooms.
I am shaped by my home and those who are part of my life:
my somber, solemn husband,
the silent dead,
the shrieking Furies,
and occasionally, laughing Hermes,
who does what he can to lighten my mood.
I am my husband’s wife.
I rule Hades’ realm at his side,
and I am no longer an innocent child.
Just as humans can change, so can the gods,
exchanging old faces for new.
Our masks are not fixed, are not set.
Even a goddess of death is alive,
and this needs to be acknowledged.
I am my mother’s daughter, yes,
but I am also the Queen of the Dead,
and I have not been an innocent child
for a very long time.
All Their Voices 