Thursday, December 6, 2007

hecate, hecate...

be with me... hecate, hecate, set me free... hecate, hecate, help me know what to keep and what to let go...

hecate is not a goddess i call upon lightly. goddess of the crossroads, of trash and the cauldron at the bottom of it All, hecate's power is that of ultimate transformation. this is her season.

the air this morning is as bitter as hecate's breath, as harsh as hecate's Knowing. under her domain, all sales are final... there are no courts of appeal. outside my window, the crows, hecate's harbingers, are rioting in the trees. i feel a deep chill in my bones.

hecate has heard my plea.

i have a lot to do today - odds and ends, bits of things to accomplish before we leave tomorrow. there won't be any way i can do it all, and so i must pick and choose what i can handle on my plate. hecate's presence will not make it experience of Her is that She brings chaos in her wake. i can't afford chaos today.

i can feel the tidal wave churning - memories of boardwalks and amusements, of fudge and cotton candy, of sand and patten leather shoes. i hear my footsteps pounding up the back steps, and throwing open wide the door... i smell the sand, the salt, the oily pine linoleum of the kitchen. before i do anything else today, there is a child who must given to the keeping of some other, kinder energy before i dare harness my Self to hecate's cart.

already i hear Her whisper in my head.... hecate, hecate, help me See what to take, and what to leave...

and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.

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