Posted in:   From the Tale
“Who are you to cry and wail with me?” She asks us, “You are not the Gods come to bring Inanna back to life. You are mortals, and I will grant you this gift of truth. By your hands Inanna’s destruction has been forged and by your hands She will rise again.
“It was you who tore Inanna from my side — crowning Her Queen of Heaven and Earth — granting Her the royal vestments and reverence of the Great Mother — while you feared and vilified me and my mysteries of the Great Below. The solar realm eclipsed the moon, the light overrode the dark, and the whole, holy cycles from life to death to rebirth were torn asunder.
“And you did not stop there. Gods replaced Goddesses. The ways of men crushed the ways of women. Dominion and death overruled creation and the nurturance of life. I will not recount for you the litany of crimes that have erupted from these festering wounds, mortal against mortal, and against the good, green earth. Nor do I need to remind you of the grave peril these desecrations have wrought, and that you hover on the brink of destroying the web of life that sustains you and your planet home. For I have taken your measure and see that we drink from the same well of loss and despair.”
“But there is hope,” Ereshkigal continues, holding my gaze for a second, “And that hope rests with those courageous enough to turn their faces back to my life-serving ways.”