Goddess

Hymn to Hera

Let us sing now of Hera, the women’s goddess.
she who rules from her throne of gold.
Let us sing now of Hera, child of earth,
daughter of that most ancient of goddesses.
Let us sing now of the queen of gods.
Let us sing now of the most beautiful goddess.
There is no one more beloved than you,
womanly Hera, no one we honor more.
There is no one more revered than you,
queenly Hera, no one more blessed.
Above all others, you are the most honored.
Above all others, you are the most beloved.

~Homer

The Prayer To Selene For Any Spell

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“Come to me, O Beloved Mistress, Three-faced
Selene; kindly hear my Sacred Chants;
Night’s Ornament, young, bringing Light to Mortals,

O Child of Morn who ride upon the Fierce Bulls,
O Queen who drive Your Car on Equal Course
With Helios, who with the Triple Forms

Of Triple Graces dance in Revel with
The Stars. You’re Justice and the Moira’s Threads:
Klotho and Lachesis and Atropos

Three-headed, You’re Persephone, Megaira,
Allekto, Many-Formed, who arm Your Hands
With Dreaded, Murky Lamps, who shake Your Locks

Of fearful Serpents on Your Brow, who sound
The Roar of Bulls out from Your Mouths, whose Womb
Is decked out with the Scales of Creeping Things,

With Pois’nous Rows of Serpents down the Back,
Bound down Your Backs with Horrifying Chains
Night-Crier, Bull-faced, loving Solitude,

Bull-headed, You have Eyes of Bulls, the Voice
Of Dogs; You hide Your Forms in Shanks of Lions,
Your Ankle is Wolf-shaped, Fierce Dogs are dear

To You, wherefore they call You Hekate,
Many-named, Mene, cleaving Air just like
Dart-shooter Artemis, Persephone,

Shooter of Deer, night shining, triple-sounding,
Triple-headed, triple-voiced Selene
Triple-pointed, triple-faced, triple-necked,

And Goddess of the Triple Ways, who hold
Untiring Flaming Fire in Triple Baskets,
And You who oft frequent the Triple Way

And rule the Triple Decades, unto me
Who’m calling You be gracious and with Kindness
Give Heed, You who protect the Spacious World

At night, before whom Daimons quake in Fear
And Gods Immortal tremble, Goddess who
Exalt Men, You of Many Names, who bear

Fair Offspring, Bull-eyed, Horned, Mother of Gods
And Men, and Nature, Mother of All Things,
For You frequent Olympos, and the broad

And boundless Chasm You traverse. Beginning
And End are You, and You Alone rule All.
For All Things are from You, and in You do

All Things, Eternal One, come to their End.
As Everlasting Band around Your Temples
You wear Great Kronos’ Chains, unbreakable

And unremovable, and You hold in
Your Hands a Golden Scepter. Letters ’round
Your Scepter Kronos wrote Himself and gave

To You to wear that All Things stay steadfast:
Subduer and subdued, Mankind’s Subduer,
And Force-subduer; Chaos, too, You rule.

Hail, Goddess, and attend Your Epithets,
I burn for You this Spice, O Child of Zeus,
Dart-shooter, Heav’nly One, Goddess of Harbors,

Who roam the Mountains, Goddess of Crossroads,
O Nether and Nocturnal, and Infernal,
Goddess of Dark, Quiet and Frightful One,

O You who have Your Meal amid the Graves,
Night, Darkness, Broad Chaos: Necessity
Hard to escape are You; You’re Moira and

Erinys, Torment, Justice and Destroyer,
And You keep Kerberos in Chains, with Scales
Of Serpents are You dark, O You with Hair

Of Serpents, Serpent-girded, who drink Blood,
Who bring Death and Destruction, and who feast
On Hearts, Flesh Eater, who devour Those Dead

Untimely, and You who make Grief resound
And spread Madness, come to my Sacrifices,
And now for me do You fulfill this Matter.”

From the Greek Magical Papyri

Sekhmet – Lady of Mysteries

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I am the Dark Lady of the Egyptian Night, the goddess of Mystery
My signs are the lion, who walks proud and free, without fear
and the viper, who poisons those who displease it
I am offered meat and milk, for these two forms
And also blue lilies, for the dark skies of magic

I walk in the desert at night, and none know me
I stay in caves, and groups of rocks, and old trees
I know the pathways through the darkness on earth,
and I know the pathways beyond

Few have known my secrets, and they have been forgotten
with the moving of sands and of armies
But I still live, and hold the keys, and the passwords
To the worlds that appear after death

As the lion-goddess, I prey upon the unworthy
I am the wrath of the desert to the dishonest
I am the wrath of many gods, for I do not hesitate to act
And I have been involved in vengeance
I deserve to be feared
For my anger has gone forth upon the tomb-robbers and the killers of children

But for those who fear me, and speak with respect
I give knowledge of the many worlds of death
I am the Dark Guide, the secret way-finder, the one who leads through mazes

Some seek the worlds of the pharoahs,
those proud men bloated with their own importance
They now live in kingdoms which are echoes of their own worldly power
And they never change or grow
They paid their magicians well to make these worlds
As they paid their architects and sculptors to make monuments in the sand
They earned their money, and made afterlives of waters and date palms
But they stay there forever, without knowledge or love
Remembering their days of power
These are not worlds to visit

Where should one go in the after life?
This is the question
It depends on your ideals and your worthiness
One may be initiated during life, or after death to find the way
My worlds are those of dark beauty, the worlds of magicians, and explorers of the night
Not angry ghost and monsters, not the hell worlds
But places of clean pure air, filled with sorcery and wonder
Where one can feel the power and move it at will
Where the night air is your sculpture, and the stars your paint
Where each person can make a world of his own

Or, one may go to the worlds of Ra, the shining one
Whose rays are full of secret worlds
Ra whose boat travels the skies
Whose explosive power fills the skies with fireworks
Who shows the range of what already exists

Or we have the worlds of Isis
Lover, mourner, queen
It is Isis who both heals and steals, who is both truth and falsehood
Isis is the drama queen who plays the faithful wife
Yet takes power whenever she can get it
She is no great goddess who rules the sky
She is the trophy wife, desired by men and manipulating them
She can heal if she wishes but she may also lie about it

Osiris has the green worlds, and the death worlds
He is an ocean who absorbs all souls
To become Osiris is to lose your soul

I am the dark goddess who shows the way
Who strides like a lion in the darkness.

~Poetry from Crystal Rivers

Isis Heed My Call

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O Isis, heed my call this night,
If it is time for my spirit to flee this shell,
then send those who will
guide me to your light!
Grant me rest O Beloved Mother,
for Your child is wracked with pain.
If my time has yet to come,
help me Great One to heal from within.
O Isis, heed my call this night!

Source: Liberated Thinking

I Am Aset

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I am Aset, Daughter of Earth and Sky
I am the Mother of Power
I am the Sister of Authority
I am the Wife of Death
I am the Lady of Life
I am the Adversary of the Enemy of my People
I know the Secret and Powerful Name
I am the Lady of all Magicks
I am Watcher of the Limit, I test it, I break it
I bring Life out of Death
My wings cause the Breath of Life
I am the Wife and Mother of Sorrows
I am the Mighty Throne of Power
I am Aset, Queen of Heaven
I endure throughout the ages
My peoples have not forgotten Me.

From: Isis Moon Temple

The Courtship of Inanna and Damuzi

The courtship of Inanna and Dumuzi is one of the oldest love poems from the ancient world. It is a story of love between the gods (although some argue that Dumuzi was a real person, who rose to power, and so attained mythical divine status). When the gods consummate their love the result is fecundity on earth, particularly for their worshipers.

This Sumerian text is often compared to the Song of Songs. The Egyptian love poetry makes a better parallel, but there are some connections. However, a word of warning, this is much more explicitly sexual than the Song of Songs, and, of course, it is about divine lovers.

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Here it is:

The brother spoke to this younger sister
The Sun God, Utu, spoke to Inanna, saying:

‘Young Lady, the flax in its fullness is lovely,
Inanna, the grain is glistening in the furrow.
I will hoe it for you, I will bring it to you
A piece of linen, big or small, is always needed.
Inanna, I will bring it to you.’

‘Brother, after you’ve brought me the flax, who will comb it for me?
Sister, I will bring it to you combed.’
‘Utu, after you’ve brought it to me combed, who will spin it for me?
‘Sister, I will bring it to you spun.’
‘Brother, after you’ve brought the flax to me spun, who will braid it for me?
‘Sister, I will bring it to you braided.’
‘Utu, after you’ve brought it to me braided, who will warp it for me?’
‘Inanna, I will bring it to you warped.’
‘Brother, after you’ve brought the flax to me warped, who will weave it for me?’
‘Sister, I will bring it to you woven.’
‘Utu, after you’ve brought it to me woven, who will bleach it for me?’
‘Inanna, I will bring it to you bleached.’

‘Brother, after you’ve brought my bridal sheet to me,
Who will go to bed with me?
Utu, who will go to bed with me?’

‘Sister, your bridegroom will go to be with you
He who was born from a fertile womb,
He who was conceived on the sacred marriage throne
Dumuzi, the shepherd! He will go to bed with you.’

Inanna bathed and anointed herself with scented oil.
She covered her body with the royal robe
She arranged her precious lapis beads around her neck
She took the royal seal in her hand
Dumuzi waited expectantly
Inanna opened the door for him
Inside the house she shone before him
Like the light of the moon
Dumuzi looked at her joyously
He pressed his neck close against hers
He kissed her Continue reading

Moonlight

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Douse the lights, douse even the candle
Speak to her gently; she’s been shunned
so long, she runs away.
Suggest, don’t expect
Invite
Wait

Let being fill up the space
of doing
So that what you’re doing
is being.

Let the message emerge
from the sea of understanding
like a mermaid singing her seduction,
Think fishes, flying through dark waters,
Think night, moonlit seas, and
no moonlight at all.

Think water. Think depths, dampness.
Think subtle. Think subtler.
Think feelings.

Your wis-dame, your wisdom,
is an archivist. She knows what happened.
Just ask.

She isn’t afraid, she’s been here before.
Another kind of clarity, silvery, not stark, emerges.
Your wis-dame is your oldest ally,
your mother-wit.

Without her you are less than half yourself
with her you are whole and ready.
Like a dolphin she is beside you
when you are goalless
and seeking only to satisfy your higher yearning.

Be attracted, addicted to life
and life’s deeper demands.
Love, don’t curse, the blind alleys
the red lights and lost luggage.

Without guessing there’s no game.
Not “no pain no gain”
but “no love no gain”

You mother-wit
your wise dame

The sage speaks in patterns and pictures,
a scatter tongue. Catch as you can
her butterfly dust

But if you treasure her treasure
be loyal,
For eons she has been wooed in the dark
and spurned in the sun.
If she was with you then
She’s with you now.

Ask
Ask
and then, of course,
listen.

~Marilyn Ferguson

A Song of Cailleach

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“Bha da shleagha chaola chatha
air an taobh eile dh’an chaillich
Bha ‘h-aodann dubh-ghorm air dreach a ‘ghuail
‘S a deud cnabadach cnamh-ruadh.

Bha aon suil ghlumach ‘na ceann
Bu luaithe na rionnag gheamhraidh;
Craobh mhineach chas air a ceann
Mar choill inich de ‘n t-seana chrithinn.

 

Translation:

There were two slender spears of battle
upon the other side of the carlin
her face was blue-black, of the lustre of coal,
And her bone tufted tooth was like rusted bone.

In her head was one deep pool-like eye
Swifter than a star in winter
Upon her head gnarled brushwood
like the clawed old wood of the aspen root.

From:
Popular Tales of the West Highlands – Vol 3

Related content:
The Powers That Be – The Old Woman Cailleach

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