Hekate Sings to Demeter : Waning Moon

I am a skeleton,

frail like a leaf that has stayed on the tree till the budding.

I am the invisible ghost of myself, transparent, failing.

With my last burst of color

I have become the flame of my torch,

a burning desire, guidance for all seekers.

With my last strength, I keep

my covenant with my coven.

At the triple crossroads, midnight, dark of the moon,

throwing off the clothing of lies,

My daughters gather, calling invocations,

dancing around the cauldron of my dark womb.

Dark of the moon, I descend into them; 

black hole, they dive into my ecstasy.

My cackling mocking call guides them

down the cracks of seamless reality

to enter the space between the worlds,

to encounter the jeweled underworld of their deepest selves,

to find their own power from within.

My daughters give birth to themselves. 

I am consumed by their joy

and renewed by the circle of their unity.

© Tamara Rasmussen 2018