To Medeia of Horse Creek

Hail Medeia,
equal of Orpheus,
who knows spells,
and songs,
and all the secret stories
of plants and birds
and the honey-collecting bees.
Unflinchingly principled,
just and severe,
friend of the Nymphai with braided hair
and the rustic Boukoloi who roam the hills
in midnight masked revels.
You, Sorceress,
dwell in a snake-filled hut
far from humanity,
and can find your way
through all woods and wetlands easily,
you who remember
which mushrooms to harvest,
and which to avoid,
collector of bones,
loosener of knots,
brewer of strange potions,
and revealer of stranger mysteries still,
Medeia hail!