It was the night before Persephone
was set to return to Hades,
when a terrible storm descended
as she and her mother,
two goddesses in the greenwood,
noticed a gathering of houses
through autumn’s falling leaves.
Places in which they hoped
to seek warmth, food and shelter
for their last night together.
Fireworks whistle past our ears,
lighting up the dark night
as sky-flowers, laden with stars,
blossom above the bonfire
in sparkling petals of starlight.
While hearts burst with joy,
November sets off with a bang
yet quickly fizzles in a flash.
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.