Ancient Cybele originated in the mountains in Anatolia(present day Turkey) in the 6 century BCE. She was an earth mother goddess and connected to nature and agriculture. Her cult involved singing , drumming, dancing, and wild orgiastic rituals and she was associated with bees and honey. The Great Mother was usually shown seated and pregnant or in some instances shown giving birth. Her myth tells of a husband called Attis who was a sacrificed death and resurrection God and was turned into a pine tree. The most sacred manifestation of Cybele was as a revered black meteorite. In 204BC this stone was removed to Rome,via the Delphi Oracle who gave permission for the Mother of the Gods to be welcomed in Rome where she was called Cybele -Magna Mater , the great mother. Cybele’s cult was very popular in the whole of the Roman Empire and it was not terminated until the Christian era. The meteorite black stone disappeared but was recorded historically. Cybele is usually shown wearing a tower as her crown so seen as the personification of fortifications such as towns or cities. Other Goddesses also wear this type of crown such as that seen on the Statue of Liberty in New York. My print show St Michael’s Tower at the top of Glastonbury Tor. Cybele is closely connected to Minoan Goddess Rhea and the Greek goddess Demeter
Jung saw the tower as a feminine symbol with sacred meaning. He actually built himself a stone tower at Bollingen in Switzerland. In the middle of the tower was the fireplace and writes that it “represented for him the maternal hearth.” above the hearth he carved a quote “Seek that which is not possible.” Here in his tower he retreated alone to work and live off grid ,writing ,painting and carving stones. Jung saw the tower as a symbol of the Self with the divine spark at its centre…. the tower being seen as the place where the body, the soul ,the self ……..matured and developed on its journey.
The Mother Goddess is watching the forest she sings to you a song of honey and cry's the chant of mad sweet music her heaving breast worships us drunk and frantic with joy .....I recall her visions give wild dreams she sits in our beauty and the red rose incubates