Soul of the World

A prayer I wrote to Hekate in 2009, which has popped up again through social media so I am sharing it with you here.

My relationship with Hekate has shifted in recent years, as relationships tend to do. She was my first – the first deity that I felt a true kinship with, the first deity that I made a dedication to. I joke that we are old friends, content in our relationship, sometimes not speaking for lengths of time but knowing the other is always present.

This is partially a result of growth in my practice, as contradictory as some people may find that. As my polytheism grows in complexity and nuance, and as my work in Tantra and my relationship with Kali Maa deepens, duality starts to blur and the lines between “hard” and “soft” no longer seem as fixed.

Hekate Soteira, the World Soul, is the one who truly started me down the path I am on, or perhaps She is the one I first recognized as calling to me in recognition of my path. As such our connection will never be taken for granted. Io Hekate!

Soul of the World
Ancient One,
You who were created from darkness,
born from the womb of nothingness
Hekate, Mostly Lovely One,
to You I pray.

Guardian of Crossroads
You who sees what came before, what is, and what lies ahead
Propolos, guide me on my path.

Keeper of the Keys
Protectress of the ancient wisdom
I pray to thee, as your daughter
Most Magnificent Goddess
Phosporous One, bare your torch for me.

Through you, I face my fears
Guiding me into ever greater depths,
until you stand with me at the final mystery.

Hekate Soteira
Goddess, Savior
It is in honor of you that I pray.

written by Syren Nagakyrie
Please do not share or reproduce without credit
Samhaintide 2009

14876535_10155558354249368_2742261652710250066_o
Hekate Altar by Syren circa 2015
Advertisements

A Spell for those who feel Adrift

When the seed falls from the tree, it appears
to spin wildly, to float lazily
It is doing exactly what it is meant to do
On its way to meet the earth
and take root.

The seed creates a vortex,
held aloft by its own design
it’s own power.

It’s fall is a magical act
It’s descent a journey, blessed
Ancestor to ancestor.

16665309_10155888495939368_5192016183897316467_o
DNA of Maple Seed Flight

 

Shared as it was inspired in me, and with the awareness that as “seeds” those of us of European descent in America are rooting into colonized land.

Invocation to Grieving Hearts

May the waves of our grief
and the fires of our open hearts
rise and flow to remind us all
of the power that we contain.

Our bones are made of mountains
Our tears made of stars

With the contraction and expansion of every heart beat
Our bodies call to the grief and ecstasy of life

May we remember
in honor of all those who are forgotten
May we remember
in honor of the blood in the soil
and the beings that have been lost.

DSCF1369

I actually wrote that over a week ago, before I really heard about the murder of Alton Sterling, followed by the murder of Philando Castile, and a number of other deaths of POC in the last few days that happen everyday.

It came after a night of devotion to Kali. It came after having another layer of maya ripped from my sight. I’ve been struggling to reorient myself since then, and have realized that nothing has felt stable in longer than I can remember.

Three weeks ago I wrote “I don’t know what’s next. We’ll see what the coming weeks and months bring, even if I am afraid to look.”

I keep diving into the current, hoping to pull out something profound and meaningful, something that will inspire to empowerment and action. But I gotta be honest: right now I’m not finding anything other than the ominous. And as I watch the protests surge across the country, fear and grief flowing through the people, I can’t help but feel that this is not the end.

Are you feeling it too? That sense of something being ripped open, of something below the surface that feels too dark, too deep?

Do you feel the resistance, like a rip tide?

 

Hymn to Kali

 

13680132_10155208551864368_7779849267185226839_o

O Maa
Dancing through our hearts
Shattering our illusions

You, Creator and Destroyer
All encompassing Time
Nothing escapes the wisdom of your blade

Sever us from our demons
Teach us to drink deep
of the ecstasy of life

O Maa
Praise be to you,
Most Fierce and Loving One.

Jai Kali Maa!

Poem and Photo by Syren Nagakyrie

Requiem

It feels like pooled velvet
the grains so fine,
they seem to disappear as I grasp them.

They defy their mass
This, your Mass
my Sacred Rite

Kali of the cremation grounds, whose ashes heralded Her coming
Your blessing of a sharp blade and fierce love

Is this your boon received?

The color of it surprises me
For a moment
it is only the sand of a beach
and then a chip of bone sifts to the surface
Maybe, it is only a shell.

The wind shifts, a wave splashes
Ash kisses my face.

Sure as had been Her blade,
the moment strikes upon me
an initiation greater than any.

Love and grief and soul align
dissolving into one,
as ash dissolves into the sea.

Say Her Name

At a loss for words
the pen trembles the point
carving lines of vacant thought on paper.

Vacant like the eyes in the faces I see
Names carved on paper

Say her name –
It rises from the tongue on wings
With a scream,
Beating against what condemned her

Air is pushed from the room
And the abyss rushes in
Claiming the eyes, the faces, the names
Until everything is eyes and faces and names

Unrestrained
The room trembles with truth
And the walls shudder with grief

An earthquake of voices
Magnitudes too great to withhold
Behold
Justice has come.