Friday, November 4, 2016

Double Acrostic Prayer for Success

I wrote this to include in a Hermes exchange that we did in the Bacchic Underground a little while back, thought I would post it here since today is the Hermaia festival in the Starry Bull tradition.  Hail Hermes!

Hermes, luck-bringer, kindly blesS
Enchant, shift and coalescE
Reality bend my will to forM
Mercurial messenger, open the dooR
Even the odds with twinkling eyE
Sweet son of Maia and Zeus on higH

Thursday, October 27, 2016


I, Semele, made love to lightning,
I am the cup,
the vessel divine.
I know what mysteries are.
I have been made pure by their brilliance,
hallowed and hollowed,
aglow and growing,
the rod that grounds, the earth that accepts the seed of heaven.
He roils in my womb like a cosmic unfolding, the roaring
one, who will be savior,
shifter and shaker
He shows it to me in dreams
whispers tales to me.
Sweet child.  A mother should be the storyteller,
But this is no ordinary son.
And I, always impetuous, foolish princess,
I swallowed more sacred than I should
have, I could have
said no, but I did not
want to, I wanted it
all - god and glory.

They say my lover destroyed me, that I pleaded for proof.
but that is not my story.

Mortals born of mortals,
sometimes a hero or two.
But this bull child can be more,
In my bones, I know.
Simple enough - a sacrifice,
a mortal life for an immortal one, so it goes...

Death comes for all,
Yet I asked for this.
“Don’t hold back this time, it’s time
to burn. Tell him I chose this.
I am his first initiate.”

Play the drum
  play it for his fearless heart
     and I will go down dancing,
my frenzied ashes alight upon the wind
               to the sky I have loved
                   and the storm I’ve born.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

On the Lenaia...

a girl cries in a Vineyard.
she remembers, truly remembers, why she's here.
she looks with love at the bee that lands on her hand,
which in turn clutches a glass of wine...
wine from the very earth she stands on
and from the very skeletal vines she sees,
(so selfless, so purposeful, so sublimely crucified),
wine that lingers like memory and hope on her tongue,
invigorated by the sun that still, so miraculously, burns in the sky,
and she is not afraid.
she says,
"You may sting me if you wish. I promise to love you anyway."
but it has no barbs--just a natural curiosity
for the spirit of fermented grape and the leaves of rosemary she has crushed between her fingers.