It doesn't interest me if there is one God Or many gods. I want to know if you belong – or feel abandoned; If you know despair Or can see it in others. I want to know If you are prepared to live in the world With its harsh need to change you; If you can look back with firm eyes Saying “this is where I stand.” I want to know if you know how to melt Into that fierce heat of living Falling toward the center of your longing. I want to know if you are willing To live day by day With the consequence of love And the bitter unwanted passion Of your sure defeat. I have been told In that fierce embrace Even the gods Speak of God.
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 . . . ."