My Lady, That Night, A Prayer: A Hymn to Hekate

O my Lady
if I have ever poured red wine
ever given you dark wine and honey
milk and honey
bread and garlic cloves
at three way crossroads on New Moon night
hear my hymn
do not spit out my prayer

O my Lady, You are not so very distant
but I am so small
my mind my soul too small for You
and when I tried to horse You
late that night
I tried to swallow the Moon
to swallow the burning Stars
the whole of grey Night
to breathe the Aether the Gods breathe only
the Oceans filled with bitter salt and all of
Chthon deep and mineral
filled with dead men’s bones
turned to stained dirt
turned to lost memories
and my lips spoke strange words
riddles of matters too high
and like a child
a small child
my nose bled and would not stop and
still You poured into me
a river
into a thimble till I fled
till I had to flee

O my Lady
I do not regret our closer contact
my hubris holy and dark
You hinted
or only I guessed
what You want
in enigmas and
so darkly
I do not understand
not comprehend that night
that reflected
in the quaint and faded mirror of all of me

O my Lady
I who am too small to hold
the merest flake of Your Power
I fear I am too small to do
the smallest flake of Your Will

And I rejoice and I pray

Hekate
Whose womb is armored in serpent scales
Surrounded by ghosts and ravenous Spirits
Who grasp the Key to All and
are Mistress of the Magical Quintessence
You my Tender and Terrible
One
O my Lady
Source and End of All
Hekate Soteira
World Tree and
Anima Mundi

I pray You
enlarge me

O my Lady

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