I want a women’s revolution like a lover. I lust for it, I want so much this freedom, this end to struggle and fear and lies we all exhale, that I could die just with the passionate uttering of that desire…
Oh mother, I am tired and sick “How do you stop from going crazy?” No way, sister, no way. May we go mad together, my sisters. May our labor agony in bringing forth this revolution be the death of all pain. May we comprehend that we cannot be stopped. May I learn how to survive until my part is finished. May I realize that I am a monster. I am a monster. I am a monster. And I am proud.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."