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POETRY TO HECATE

Moon Woman,old and Wise,
Hair of silver ~ Pale gray eyes.
She rises high above the night,
Spinning spider silk of light.
Shining like a beacon bright,
to light the way for faeries' flight.

White as an eggshell,
White as a bone,
White as chalk
Or milk or the moon,
Is the written word
Of the Ancient Crone,
Who works by wind,
Sun,water,and stone.

Double, double toil and trouble
Fire, burn; and, cauldron, bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Willliam Shakespeare
Macbeth, Act IV Scene I

CRONE

Untie a knot,
Tie a new knot
Bind it and set it free!
Take me in your twisted hands,old woman
With each wrinkle I am yours in the end
Twist the twine, weaver of time
Your destiny is mine.

I raise my eyes into my eyes
And there I see you beckoning
Conspirator, adventurer
Upon the spiral way.
Whose approach is creamed away in lies
You are not refused in me
Whose whisper now is deafening
I watch you weaving patiently

Holy Mother of the Web,
Weaver of the spider's tread
Sister spinners, weavers all
Dance upon the Harpy's claw
Fill the void with sacred rage
Rattle the bars, free the cage
Shatter silence with your cries
Sister flyers, pierce the skies!
Like the snake that sheds its skin,
Letting transformation take me
The golden chrysalis hands by a thread

As I look within
Where one leaves off and the next begins,
In your chaos will I bide
Shadow spinner, Moerae,
Guide me to the other side!
Untie a knot,
Tie a new knot
Bind it and set it free!

By: Ruth Barrett