To Hekate Phosphoros

For redeseeker

Hail Hekate, Goddess who brings light
into all the dark places, you who guide
the initiate through the winding journey
to behold the single sheaf harvested in gloom
by the Hierophant of Eleusis, you who carry
the torches that were used to search
for Demeter’s little Girl in flower-rich Sicily,
you who fondly stroke the honey-brown hair
of Dionysos’ son, Iakchos leader of the throng,
you who ride through the Heavens in a chariot
of living flame and send forth luminous eidola
to haunt the dreams of the devotees slumbering
in your temple, O Hekate daughter of Asteria
and consort of Hyperborean Apollon who resembles
Helios when he goes out in his swan-driven carriage,
I call to you Goddess who is like the white poplar
that grows where the river Lethe flows through
the underworld and the thirsty souls all rush there
for cool refreshment, and like the streetlamp
that draws moths and butterflies to death
in the enticing flame, and like the glowing
woods and mushrooms that lure the Fair Folk
to dance in the murky swamp, like the Lampades,
chthonic Nymphs with white hair and pale faces
who march while carrying lanterns in your spectral revels,
O Hekate whose eyes are stars, and whose face is black
as the robe of Nyx, or the blood of a bull sacrificed
in moonlight, you who can see all the atrocities
that occur in the dark, which most people
would prefer to remain blind to and quickly
forget, made uncomfortable by the whole
gruesome matter; continue to shine a light
on the victims and those who performed
these wicked deeds on them, until swift justice
is delivered and Dike who lifts the perfectly
balanced scales and Themis who upholds
custom, tradition and law are both satisfied,
this I pray Hekate Phosphoros, Goddess
of the flickering Morning Star.

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