With a new broom in hand,
the Goddess of Spring returns
to sweep through our house,
waking us from winter’s dream,
as the wheel of the year turns.
Father Sun is in the sky,
yet his warmth does not reach
our hopeful, upturned faces.
Alone in my cave I hear Persephone scream
as the veil between upper and lower worlds lift.
I alone bear witness to her being dragged down,
deep into the dirt and desolation of Hades,
leaving Demeter to face the empty cradle alone.
A necessary cut; their separation and my return
as a dark feminine nature descends over all.
I alone stand guard over Mother and Maiden,
protecting them in their darkest moments,
all the while crowing as I become Hekatê.
As I turn over the outcome card
there she is, my beautiful goddess
Persephone, in her dual aspects,
maiden and queen of underworld.
Pouring her love into empty cups,
divining heavenly rich fountains,
for when her cup is placed to lips
eternity flows through to the heart.
With my shepherd’s simple flute
I play, while she writes her verse,
love surging with all her heart.
My beautiful true love, to whom
I cannot ever lie or ever fool,
for her instincts are impeccable.
She who defines her own space.
She who upholds her own soul.