Category: Poetry

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Darkest Night – A Poem for Hekate

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I am feeling a bit under the weather today. Allergies are kicking my butt and I feel as if my head is in a vise. So, instead of trying to fight through all of the crap in my head, I thought I would re-share an old post, Darkest Night. I wrote this several years ago as an offering to Hekate at our groups Hekate’s Feast night. However, its content is just as relevant today as it was then.

Once again we enter the season of contemplation and quiet as the wheel of the year turns to Mabon. This turn ushers in the beginning of the darkest time of the year. And in this dark, we call upon the Goddesses whose realms reside in the shadows. We turn to them in the darkest hours of the night, during the darkest times of our souls. It seems fitting that this small offering be shared once again,

Hekate

Darkest Night – A Poem for Hekate

By Terry Lynn Pellegrini – (Copyright 2016)

In the darkest of nights, She lights my way. Phosphorous, illuminating, brilliant one. Torches held high, I follow. Through my despair, through my apprehension, She leads me to knowledge. She leads me to joy. And through my joy, She shows me life and what lies beyond.

Her torches burn through the forgotten fields of my soul. Scorching that which has died, lain fallow, neglected. Blackened earth and ash nourish the slumbering seeds of inspiration, Pushing visions through the parched earth towards the moonlit sky. I feel Her pull, Her presence quenching my thirst, slaking my hunger.

With Her keys, She unlocks for me the mysteries, Invites me through the door and into the welcoming darkness I have forgotten. Her hounds, black, menacing, ever at my side.  Guarding my steps, teeth bared, haunches taut. Ever ready to protect as well as devour. And they watch, as fears are defeated and yearnings are satiated.

And when I stand at the crossroads of my life, She comes. Lighting the path of my existence, showing me the path to my destiny, Gifting me with the secrets of life, death, and beyond. And I rejoice in the knowing of Her. Giving freely of my heart, my devotion, my pain, and my joy.

Hekate Soteria. Hekate Phosphorous. She of the three faces. Guardian of the Crossroads. She who stands as my Mother, my sister, my Goddess. My teacher, my mentor and my muse. Hekate. May I live a thousand years in your service. May you be forever in my heart, my mind and my soul. Hail Hekate!

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The Race

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The Race
By Terry Lynn Pellegrini
©2017

 

From the crossroads I run
Bare feet striking hard packed dirt,
Jarred bones, ragged breath, arteries pumping.
I crash through the waist high weeds at the roadside heedless of the stinging of the nettles, the thorns stabbing my legs.
They follow.
Fetid breath upon my heels, bone white canines dripping.
Watching me with eyes made luminescent by the moonlight.
Terror. They are terror.

I race, away, away, I must escape. No rest, not yet, never again.
They pursue, closer, ever closer.
Their growls and barks echoing in my ears, competing with the sound of my frantic
heart, ragged breath, anguished sobs.
A sound, unexpected, sharp, then the pain.
I feel her scourge upon my back, punishment deserved, punishment meted.
The blood excites them, spurs them on.

I fall.
Down on all fours, then up.
Begging the Gods to aid me, to release me from my torture, from my lies.
A sound of gold changing hands, of delight echoing through the trees.
No aid for the accused, no quarter for the wicked.
They are nearer now, the pack, these Hounds of Hell.
Racing forward, snarling, hunger evident. Their prize. My reward.
A deal gone bad, betrayal, murder, no regrets, evil embraced.

Still I race, legs moving, long past numb.
Head pounding, lungs bursting, my sweat dripping into bloodshot eyes.
I feel them. Nips at my heels, salty saliva flung into wounds by dripping muzzles.
A misstep, a stumble. I fall, finished.
I will run no more. Cannot. I am done.
They are upon me, tearing, gnashing, ripping, feasting.
With my last breath I hear Her laugh.
Justice has been served.

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Darkest Night

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Darkest Night
A Poem for Hekate
By: Terry Lynn Pellegrini
©2016

In the darkest of nights, She lights my way.
Phosphorous, illuminating, brilliant one.
Torches held high, I follow.
Through my despair, through my apprehension
She leads me to knowledge, she leads me to joy.
And through my joy, She shows me life and what lies beyond.

Her torches burn through the forgotten fields of my soul.
Scorching that which has died, lain fallow, neglected.
Blackened earth and ash nourish the slumbering seeds of inspiration,
Pushing visions through the parched earth towards the moonlit sky.
I feel Her pull, Her presence quenching my thirst, slaking my hunger.

With Her keys, She unlocks for me the mysteries.
Invites me through the door and into the welcoming darkness I have forgotten.
Her hounds, black, menacing, ever at my side.
Guarding my steps, teeth bared, haunches taut.
Ever ready to protect as well as devour.
And they watch, as fears are defeated and yearnings are satiated.

And when I stand at the crossroads of my life, She comes.
Lighting the path of my existence, showing me the path to my destiny,
Gifting me with the secrets of life, death and beyond.
And I rejoice in the knowing of Her.
Giving freely of my heart, my devotion, my pain and my joy.

Hekate Soteria. Hekate Phosphorous.
She of the three faces. Guardian of the Crossroads.
She who stands as my Mother, my sister, my Goddess.
My teacher, my mentor and my muse.
Hekate. May I live a thousand years in your service.
May you be forever in my heart, my mind and my soul.
Hail Hekate!

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Sometimes She Whisper

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Into the wooded glade you go,
Cast your circle, corners glow.
Stomach flutters, brow beads with sweat.
Into the center, intentions set.
Then without fear you call Her here.
Ears strain to listen, your wish to feel Her near.
But nothing.
Not even a whisper.
 
Arms raised, you call Her name.
In anticipation you expect to hear the same.
But silence enfolds you like a shroud,
You wish for a sign, you wish it loud.
Fleeting anger, disappointment too.
Why doesn’t She acknowledge you?
But sometimes She whispers.
 
In defeat you collapse, tears stain your cheeks.
Was I not heartfelt, am I too weak?
Shoulders slumped, the hot tears flow.
What did I do wrong, should I do more?
You shout Her name, cry out your woe.
Is this it? Will I never know?
Yet sometimes She whispers.
 
A breeze, a rustle, stillness at an end.
Candle flames flicker, sputter, bend.
And in the breeze, a sigh, a sound.
A gentle caress, your soul unbound.
You stand, composed now, tears have dried.
Is that Her I feel inside?
Was that a whisper?
 
In quiet you have found Her, as the wind She speaks.
Your call has been answered, it is She you seek.
“I am always here, I’ve never left your side.”
The voice that whispers comes from inside.
“You are my child and always shall be.
The answers are within, it is there you find me.”
In joy, you hear Her whisper.
 
It is then you realize the key,
Not only fireworks announce the mystery.
It is sometimes just the smallest spark,
That brings the light that fills the dark.
If you wish to seek Her you will find,
You’ve but to open your heart and mind,
Because sometimes, She whispers.