But Poseidon was so far from a storm, he had a caressing voice and a soft smile I found his presence as soothing as cool waves on a hot day. I would have been wise to say no, I could have sought favor from another member of the divinity to avoid the wrath of the sea god. They are immortal, reckless – red with the touch of Bacchus – they have no care for the consequences of their actions. Though we honor the gods, it rarely does well to be singled out by them. Little did I know, Poseidon had come to present himself as a suitor, one that I could not refuse. But I was young, beautiful, I didn’t want to waste my mortal years with a husband who was dull or old or stupid. My suitors were numerous, and pressure was mounting to select a future husband so that I could secure a prosperous life for myself, and for my family. My first thought was that, perhaps, he had come to answer my prayers. He didn’t have his trident, but I knew it was him, I knew it right down to my bones. His long hair stirred in the sea breeze, his eyes glinted like garnet, as black as a storm. I was sitting praying, or at least thinking about praying, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. The salt cedar trees shivered in the wind, the blue sapphire waves stretched out towards the thin strip of horizon in the distance. My day had started normally, I ate barley bread and figs for breakfast, I went to the white temple before noon, and then I took the fated path down to the beach.
Check out Mystic Self’s retelling of Ovid’s classic story, told from the perspective of Medusa (and look out for reference to your favorite gemstones along the way!): Many of us have heard the legend of Medusa and Perseus, the snake-haired monster who was slain by the iconic Greek hero… but there’s another side to this particular tale.
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