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Hekate at the Crossroads

By Sandi Leibowitz

Where northern road meets western road
I place my offering,
hoping to appease your demons,
the crossroad ghosts that throng
at dark of moon.
 
Hekate, the dogs bark,
Hekate, Hekate,
naming you in language
my blood translates.
 
Belladonna, (I hazard
a euphemism), your eyes
beneath your hooded brow
bright as black berries,
your passage subtle as
monks’ gossip,
I conjure you out of
nightwind and shadow.
 
“Mother of Sorceries,”
I whisper,
“pass by.”
 
Yet I know it’s nothing
as innocent as witchcraft
that sets me trembling.
 
Mistress of the Unknown,
Lady of the Tabula Rasa,
Beldame of Doubts,
Harpy of Regrets!
That dread sound in the dark
is not the sweep of your black robes
but the irrevocable echo
of my footsteps
taking the wrong path.
pink and cyan fractal designed by Araldia

Trans*formation by Araldia Primbee

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Hekate at the Crossroads by Sandi Leibowitz

The Old Gods by Jenny Williamson

Ceremonial Evolution by Jennifer Cunningham

The Princess and the Pea by Gabriella M. Belfiglio

Wadjet by Margaret J. Middlebrooks

Why ever should Demeter mourn? by Alison Noble

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Faux Dieu by Louis E. Bourgeois

Medusa: An Autobiography by Carroll Susco

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