Cutting the Golden Bough, the Siren warns,

is the passport you carry to the underworld.

The tree knows the gravity of these words

which Aeneas in his passion overlooked .

The ritual is repeated time and again and Aeneid

with access to the Pan's knowledge, watches.

The truth unfolds.

Each phase enacts the story of man and woman's love,

the fire that consumes unrelenting.

The consuming fire of love,

the kiss, the mistletoe.

Sushama Karnik.

Tighe O'Donoghue Ross

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CUTTING THE GOLDEN BOUGH…(final)

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5Françoise Dhulesia, Sem Xtz and 3 others

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Sushama Karnik

“In antiquity this sylvan landscape was the scene of a strange and recurring tragedy. On the northern shore of the lake . . . stood the sacred grove and sanctuary of Diana Nemorensis, or Diana of the Wood [fertility goddess of Classical Roman tradition] . . . . [in] this sacred grove there grew a certain tree round which at any time of day, and probably far into the night, a grim figure might be seen to prowl. In his hand he carried a drawn sword, and he kept peering warily about him as if at every instant he expected to be set upon by an enemy. He was a priest and a murderer; and the man for whom he looked was sooner or later to murder him and hold the priesthood in his stead. Such was the rule of the sanctuary. A candidate for the priesthood could only succeed to office by slaying the priest, and having slain him, he retained office till he was himself slain by a stronger or craftier . . . The post which he held by this precarious tenure carried with it the title of king [King of the Wood–Rex Nemorensis]; but surely no crowned head ever lay uneasier, or was visited by more evil dreams, than his.”

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Françoise Dhulesia

I like how the Aeneid and the Celtic cult are beautified and adorn one another under the epic grandeur of your narrative.

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