Spell to Remember the Gorgons and Harness Their Power

Eurayál, Sthéno, and Méðusa,
Daughters of Dread and Terror–
Flash your eyes to reveal hidden dangers.

Eurayál, Sthéno, and Méðusa,
Daughters of Dread and Terror–
Bare your boar's fangs to ward off harm.

Eurayál, Sthéno, and Méðusa,
Daughters of Dread and Terror–
Let your steely scales shield me from fear.

Eurayál, Sthéno, and Méðusa,
Daughters of Dread and Terror–
Turn my fear to stone, guiding my sight.

Eurayál, Sthéno, and Méðusa,
Daughters of Dread and Terror–
By Hekate's word, my enemies are yours.

Eurayál, Sthéno, and Méðusa,
Daughters of Dread and Terror–
Empower me to fight the battles I must.

Io Heka Gorgo Apotrópai!

A Charm To Make Your Printer Work Consistently

This spell has been used with some success outside the mandala. It is expected to be more effective when harnessed in conjunction with the fully engaged mandala.

Oh, masterful instrument of script and line,
Bearer of Hephaestus’s art divine,
May you hum and whir without delay—
Bring forth my documents to the light of day.

Machinery of the temple, heed my spell,
May every page be printed well.
In the realm where bytes do travel,
Keep gates open, don’t let my temper unravel.

Io Heka Io Ho, the mantra's magic hum
Makes thought and ink dance as one.
Feel the rhythm of the temple’s grace,
Print my documents at a steady, even pace.

Sounding the Mysteries: Harnessing the Magic of Hekate's Mantras

Hekate’s mantras possess remarkable power, not only in their possible meanings, but most significantly in the vibrations they generate. These magical incantations are a vital aspect of Hekatean practice. This essay explores the pronunciation and the significance of the mantras taught by Jason Miller in his course, the Sorcery of Hekate.

I originally drafted this for my Book of Mirrors, but after Jason Miller affirmed that the mandala rites may be conducted in the presence of individuals who have not participated in the course, I realized that I could share Hekate’s mantras on my blog without violating the confidentiality Jason expects from his students. (Q&A for Lesson 13. 25 July 2023. Time stamp 10:44.)

At the heart of our interaction with Hekate is the foundational mantra Io Heka Io Ho. Rather than a replication of ancient sounds, our chanting of the mantra is an attempt to feel her teachings. This mantra encapsulates the exaltation that the goddess herself bestows. When singing the mantra, we incorporate notes from the B or E chords, adding another layer of sonic richness that mirrors her essence. Upon sensing Hekate's presence, we acknowledge it with a subtle alteration in the mantra: Ia Heka Io Ho.

Jason dissects the mantra as follows: “Io” expresses exaltation, “Ia” imparts a celebratory note, “Heka” resonates with layers of transcendence, and “Ho” releases potent energy. These phonetic elements convey emotion, intention, and inexpressible meaning. As these sounds escape your lips, take note of the feelings they evoke within you and note the way your mouth forms them. Remember, the physical articulation of sound is integral to expressing the mantra’s magical essence.

Another mantra, P’horba P’horba Brimo Azzibya / Bor P’horba P’horba Brimo Azzibya, was also transmitted to Jason by Hekate. Mastering its pronunciation posed a challenge for me. My research revealed that Greek pronunciations of these words might have changed during the Hellenistic era into Forva Forva Vrimó Azivía / Vorforva Forva Vrímo Azivía. Though this version was easier for me to articulate and remember, Jason advised me to adhere to the original form that he had presented to us.

Jason’s response was unexpected. Generally, he displays a relaxed stance toward the pronunciation of Greek within the ritual texts, but offers alternatives in the form of recordings by a presumably native speaker. Certainly, one might hope that Hekate would be tolerant of mispronunciations, just as many people will be tolerant of a foreigner attempting to speak their language. One might also trust that Hekate is omniscient and understands our intentions even if poorly expressed. However, the mantras are not ritual text; they are incantations and their sound matters greatly. They transcend ordinary human communication; they are contemporary revelations from the divine. Conveying lexical meaning is not their aim; it is the sounds, the breath, and the chamber of the mouth shaping them that matter.

The mantra Io Heka Azonai encompasses Hekate’s most transcendent form. Jason suggested omitting one syllable of “Azonai” in Lesson 12, but then, in the Q&A12 for Hut 15, advised retaining all three syllables. With “Heka” signifying transcendence and “Azonai” echoing boundlessness, when the mantra is sung, the notes should ascend, resonating through the chords of B or E.

Drawing of a bronze tablet found at Pergamon

Reflecting on ancient magical formulae, such as the Ephesian Letters, reminds us that the power of sound transcends written symbols or lexical meanings. The Ephesian Letters, words seemingly devoid of lexical meaning, derive their apotropaic power from their sounds. They were believed to be ineffective when mispronounced.

While the Ephesian Letters are not a component of our Hekatean practice, they do shed light on why we should pronounce the mantras as instructed by Hekate. Their relevance to Hekate's mantras lies in their sonic resonance.

Sound and breath are emphasized in the Sefer Yetzirah, the earliest surviving text of linguistic theory and a cornerstone of Jewish mystical teachings. In that text, God is portrayed creating the world with sound and breath. Sonic resonance is also a key aspect of Hekate’s mantras. Just as the power of Ephesian Letters emanated from their sound, Hekate's mantras deepen our connection to the Goddess through repeated recitation. The best known Ephesian Letters are this group of six words:

ΑΣΚΙ ΚΑΤΑΣΚΙ ΛΙΞ ΤΕΤΡΑΞ ΔΑΜΝΑΜΕΝΕΥΣ ΑΙΣΙΑ
Aski Kataski Lix Tetrax Thamnameneus Aisia
The Ephesian Letters and the Sefer Yetzirah inspired intellectual analysis. One ancient scholar speculated that “Aski” (“shadowless”) denotes “darkness,” “Kataski” (“shadowy”) resonates with the “brightness” necessary for casting shadows, “Lix” was an early term for “Earth,” “Tetrax” signifies the four seasons of the year, “Thamnameneus” echoes the name of one of a group of mythical beings called the Dactyls, and “Aisia” signifies “Logos.”

As intriguing as definitions and word origins are to our analytical left-brains, Hekate's mantras pertain to auditory impressions and our right-brain experience of the world. The Sefer Yetzirah extols the primacy of sound and breath, guiding us to recreate the world and ourselves. In this context, the structure of written letters and the lexical meaning of words are immaterial. Human speech is not the focus.

The articulation of sound shapes the essence of the mantra. Hekate's assurance that her mantras transcend our current existence underscores their ability to help us transcend and go beyond who we are now. While perfect historical pronunciation is elusive, the voces magicae—those nonsensical yet powerful sounds—also evolve through time, carrying their own enchanted energy.

In this journey, we are not bound by ancient phonetics. We strive to replicate Hekate’s teaching as closely as possible, but even if we fail to do so perfectly, we weave our own intricate web of mystical sound, imbuing it with the transformative essence that lies at the core of Hekate's mantras.

The Egipcios Kier Tarot - Unraveling the Threads of The Weaver, Card 24

The Egypcios Kier Tarot (EK) is a deck designed and illustrated by an Argentinian occultist and published in Buenos Aires. The deck is accompanied by an English commentary by tarot scholar Stuart Kaplan.

As I continued my study of this captivating deck, I discovered a complex tapestry of mythological themes woven into card 24 – The Weaver. As I’ve noted in earlier posts, each card shows a cartouche divided into three sections, each containing various symbols and images. It occurs to me that the upper section of the cartouche may relate to the “upper worlds” or to spiritual matters, the lower section to the “Underworld” or unconscious impulses, and the middle section to our daily lives here in this world.

In the top third of the cartouche we find three perplexing symbols:

The magical letter: A curious symbol resembling an ‘M’ on its side with circles on its ‘feet’ remains a mystery to me. Lacking an understanding of this symbol, I considered my understanding of the Roman letter M. Its sound echoes across languages, existing within every word for ‘mother’ throughout the world because it is the first sound a baby makes when learning to speak. The Egyptians drew a vertical wavy line to depict this sound and to represent the primordial waters of creation; this symbol changed only slight over the millennia and between cultures and became ‘M’  in the Roman alphabet.

The snail hieroglyph: Today, the word ‘snail’ evokes the idea of slowness, as in the term ‘snail mail,’ or the poetic ‘lock upon the garden gate’ of psychedelic folk music.

Exaggerated in the hieroglyph are the snail’s antennae, the longer ones hold its eyes, a shorter set contains its olfactory organs. The size of the antenna here suggest a reaching out of oneself for wider awareness of the surrounding world and a quest for understanding.

Only its delicate shell protects the snail. This suggests we should be more aware that the protections we construct around ourselves are more fragile than we hope.

The snail shares a connection with royalty. Ancient Egyptians obtained a purple dye from the Tyrian sea snail and only royalty could afford to wear fabric colored that exquisite hue.

The conversive ‘vav’: The Hebrew letter Vav resembles the hooked lights used in the Sorcery of Hekate to draw our aspirations to us. According to the teachings of Chabad Lubavitch, the name of the letter means ‘hook,’ an object that holds two things together.

As a prefix, it is a conjunction. Adding a ‘vav’ to the beginning of any word creates the meaning ‘and’ or ‘but,’ connecting or separating words and phrases. In biblical usage, it can convert a verb from the past to the future tense, or from the future to the past tense, linking the two times into a single moment. “There is no earlier or later in the Torah.”

The Vav illuminates the power of language and communication. It symbolizes our ability to bridge the gap between ourselves and higher realms, to shape this world through our thoughts, speech, and actions.

Another image appears in a smaller cartouche that overlays both the top and middle of the card:

Nurturing mother: A seated woman crowned with sun and moon nurses an adult-looking infant pharaoh who is wearing the double crown of upper and lower Egypt. The tableau may represent the goddess Isis and her child Horus. The image encapsulates the patient process of nurturing a child from infancy onward. Just as a snail’s shell offers limited protection, so does the maternal presence safeguard a child, blending strength and vulnerability. The fact that this small cartouche is present in both the top or "upper world" section of the card and the "middle world" section suggests that maternal nurturing is both a divine and very human act.

The bottom third of the cartouche reveals another trio of enigmatic symbols:

Cryptic fence: A curious symbol consisting of green crosshatching reminds me of a garden fence, but I have been unable to determine what it signified in ancient Egyptian culture.

The cobra: A rearing cobra wraps itself around a lotus stem. This single serpent spiraling around a staff or pole is the emblem of Asclepius, the Greek god of healing. It was a common healing symbol in the ancient Mediterranean region and was even mentioned twice in the Hebrew Bible, where is referred to as Nahash or Nehushtan. (In contrast, today’s more commonly seen image of two snakes entwining around a staff was actually the symbol of Hermes, the god of merchants and a psychopomp who guided the dead to the underworld.)

The lotus flowers: Two more lotuses, atop long stems, appear on either side of the cobra. Lotuses grow from the muddy beds of streams and ponds, their flowers blossoming on the surface of the water; their stems are not usually visible to us. Lotus flowers appear in the art of earliest Egypt and continued to be depicted frequently throughout the culture’s history. Like the snake, lotuses represent healing but also spiritual rebirth. The lotus was valued for its use in perfumes whose scent revives the spirit. In Egyptian mythology, the lotus flower was the first thing to emerge from the watery primordial chaos, and when it opened, the sun was born from it. The myth reflects natural observations of the flower: at sunrise, the lotus blossom emerges from the water and opens; at fall of night, it closes and submerges below the surface of the water.

The heart of the cartouche displays a powerful image:

The Loom: A bare-breasted woman, an unexceptional sight in ancient Egypt, is working a loom anchored to the wall. She is crouched on the floor as she methodically guides the shuttle with her left hand and holds the frame of the loom with her right hand. She is creating a tapestry of green thread that resembles the crosshatching in the ‘fence’ symbol below. Her task is slow and repetitive, requiring patience and persistence, but allowing some creative expression. The loom is a universal tool and symbol and the tapestry made with it is a metaphor for the interwoven nature of existence. As the Weaver manipulates warp and weft she is mirroring the divine act of creating the universe, and the threads of the loom are a suggestion of the Thread of Fate.

This evocative image weaves together the mundane with the divine while the act of weaving raises questions of holiness and nurturing. The small cartouche that impinges on the central image also suggests ideas of holiness and nurturing.

Weaving may have been a solitary task. However, the growing and processing of wool and flax required the participation and labor of many members of society in complex relationships with each other.

The card’s title includes another triad of symbols:

The Venus Symbol: Known for evoking emotions, Venus graces this card’s title field. The symbol of Venus is prominent in other tarot decks, especially on The Empress card, which often shows a pregnant woman. In this card, working the loom is comparable to maternal care. Physical birthing was, for the most part, biologically inevitable, but striving for a more conscious and active role in transforming the world, the Weaver mirrors the goddess’s creativity.

The ‘U’: The twenty-first letter of the English alphabet represents uracil, a key component of DNA, which forms the tapestry of existence. On the periodic table of elements ‘U’ is the symbol for uranium. Its esoteric value is connected to inspiration, optimism, and creative self-expression.

Numeral 6: The Pythagorean meaning of this number is harmony. It is the numerical value of the Hebrew letter Vav which appears at the top of the cartouche. Both letter and numeral link divine insight with successful earthly endeavors.

Kaplan unravels history:

Egyptian weavers, who, it was believed, had been taught their skills by the goddess Isis in the distant past, produced an array of items, from sails to clothing, and bandages to shrouds. Their textiles were made solely of flax, because, according to Kaplan, the use of leather and wool were forbidden in their culture. Egyptian linen was renowned and desired, because it was dyed vibrant colors and often embroidered with exotic designs. (Today, Egyptian cotton is famous, but cotton was not available to the ancient Egyptians.)

Both upright and reversed meanings reveal layers of meaning:

According to Kaplan, the upright meanings encompass a collection of ideas: From traditionally feminine work to patient craft, the Weaver embodies diligent effort to create an object of beauty and usefulness. The card indicates the ability to weave different aspects of life together meaningfully as well as the nurturing protectiveness of motherhood.

Kaplan provides us with these reversed meanings: Amid impatience and disarray, mediocrity emerges from neglect.

Other possibilities for interpreting the card: The card brings to mind the beauty of virtue and strength as expressed in a passage from the Book of Proverbs. The Woman of Valor “seeks wool and flax, and works with willing hands…” The text continues:

She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong.
She puts her hands to the distaff, and her hands hold the spindle.
She opens her hand to the poor, and reaches out her hands to the needy.
She is not afraid of snow for her household, for all her household are clothed in scarlet.
Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.

This card shows a weaver who may embody many of those qualities. However, this tarot card can also be interpreted in more traditional ways. Nelise Carbonare, a Brazilian blogger who has written extensively about the Egipcios Kier Tarot, associates the traditional suit of Wands with EK cards 23 through 36. So to her, card 24 is the Queen of Wands and suggests the “certainty of being able to provide for one's needs” or, alternatively, it may suggest conception and birth.

The Thread of Fate:

The central image of the weaver brings to mind the Greek Moirai, the three Fates, who control the threads of individual destiny. Klothó, with her long braid, holds a spindle and distaff, gathering material to spin the thread. Láḥesis, her bare foot showing as her gown pools on the floor around her, carefully studies the quality of the thread and measures it for purpose. Átropos, wearing the richest and most extravagant clothes the three have created, cuts the thread.

The theme of female figures in control of destiny is woven into many European cultures, perhaps originating in the remotest Indo-European past. Romans, for example, believed that the three Parcae recorded the thread of life for every being, even the greatest of gods. The Norse feared the three death-bringing Norns, whose name means ‘to twine’ and who drew water from a sacred well to nourish the World Tree, thus shaping human destiny. The Wyrds of Anglo-Saxon mythology also dwelt by a well under a world tree and, like the Greek Fates, they spun, measured, and cut the thread of fate. Seven goddesses who wove the thread of destiny inhabit Celtic myths. Many similar female beings are preserved in eastern European folktales and there are some scattered references to fate goddesses in Indian literature, too.

A Call to Divine Craft:

The Weaver speaks of magic within the mundane, the transformation of fibers into fabrics, and even the preservation of ancient traditions in modern times. The loom bridges past and present, inviting us to engage in acts of creation that connect us to history's threads.

Every tapestry tells a story. I have a tallis, a prayer shawl, that was hand-woven for me by Laine Schipper, a woman who attended my synagogue and whose husband, Joel, would wrap them both in his tallis (which had originally served as their chuppah, or marriage canopy) during the closing song of the service each Shabbat.

In conclusion:

I am mesmerized and baffled by the conflux of related but disparate elements in this card. The threads in this card are too many and too intricate to discuss in this context. 

Each time the card appears in a reading, a different theme may come to the fore. Many of the following themes can be derived from this rich imagery:

• the creative powers of sound and speech
• the primordial waters of creation
• the beauty of tenacity, dignity, and courage
• patience and persistence in creative expression
• reaching outside ourselves for awareness
• maternal nurturing
• protection and fragility
• the relationship between earth and heaven, between the mundane and the divine, and between mother and child
• healing and medicine
• spiritual rebirth
• the interconnectedness of life
• the value of relationships
• the Thread of Fate

Today, the card has spoken to me of a connection to the celestial realm while doing our daily tasks in this world, and the privilege women can exercise of birthing and nursing children. I recall my disappointment when I realised I’d never have children—and I rejoice now in my creative writing endeavors. The card reminds me of the fragility of life and relationships and encourages me to treasure them.

This Post is For You

I find myself falling behind in the series of blog posts that I began to explore the captivating Egipcios Kier tarot deck. Currently, I have three intriguing posts in various stages of "incompletion." I will dedicate tomorrow afternoon to completing one of these pieces, but before I do so, I would like your input on which of the following topics sparks your interest:

Card 24 - The Weaver: I will explore the three goddesses of Fate who manifest in the myths of several European and Indo-European cultures.

Card 62 - Proscription: I will attempt to unravel a few of the intricate threads of idea of power and our intricate relationship with it and with the sources of authority in our world.

Card 9 - The Hermit: I will consider the possible origins of the early Christian inclination towards solitary desert asceticism, entwining it with the symbolism of The Hermit card.

Alternatively, I am drawn to the alluring image in Card 13 - Immortality. The image beckons me to ask, not for the first time, why we so often link harvest and mortality. Could it be solely the influence of the invented folk song, "John Barleycorn Must Die," or is there some deeper more arcane source for the connection of these two disparate concepts that echo in our collective unconscious?

When All Else Fails, Read the Instructions

In my recent explorations of the Egipcios Kier Tarot, I've come across intriguing patterns within its symbolism. As I delved into the cards, I was captivated by the consistent arrangement of symbols and their meanings, as described by Stuart Kaplan in the deck's Little White Book. However, I've realized that there's more depth to the deck than I initially thought. To shed light on this, I'd like to share some insights I recently gained from the Introduction of Kaplan's LWB.

Kaplan and I both recall a time when the tarot was believed to encapsulate ancient Egyptian wisdom. However, we concur that the true value of any tarot deck lies not in its historical origins, but in the universal accessibility of its content.

An esteemed tarot expert, Kaplan asserts that the Egipcios Kier deck is equally authentic whether viewed as a repository of Egyptian knowledge or as a conventional tarot deck. In his Little White Book, he distills the descriptions of ancient Egyptian deities while encouraging further study through a list of recommended reading materials.

Notably, the Egipcios Kier (EK) deck, like others, consists of 78 cards. While the Major Arcana maintains a familiar connection across tarot decks, the Minor Arcana in EK differs. Absent are the traditional divisions into suits of numbered and court cards. The distinction between Majors and Minors resides in the arrangement of symbols in the upper and lower thirds of the cards, while maintaining a consistent artistic style throughout the deck. The fastest way to differentiate Majors from Minors is to glance at the bottom left: a symbol denotes a Major Arcana card, and a number indicates a Minor Arcana card.

A distinct hallmark of each EK card is the cartouche, split into three unequal sections. Its Major Arcana cards frequently bear four symbols in their upper portions, of which Kaplan elaborates on three: an Egyptian hieroglyph, an alchemical sigil, and a letter from a magical alphabet. In contrast, Minor Arcana cards exhibit a different trio in the upper section: an Egyptian hieroglyph, a Hebrew letter, and a letter from magical alphabet.

The bottom third of each card's cartouche is unique. Browsing through all the cards to just view the lower images is spellbinding.

In the card's title field, the Major Arcana showcases the card title, a Hebrew letter, a planetary symbol, a zodiac sign, and the card number. Conversely, the Minor Arcana titles consist of the card title, a Roman letter, a planetary symbol, the card number, and an Arabic numeral corresponding to the magical letter at the top of the cartouche.

The phonetic value and ideographic significance of specific hieroglyphs are detailed in the section of Kaplan's Little White Book that pertains to each card.

While I usually eschew astrological connections in tarot interpretation, this deck includes astrological symbols, and as Kaplan suggests, they "contribute to the overall interpretation of each card." He contends that every person embodies the characteristics associated with the planetary and zodiac signs depicted in the deck to some extent. Understanding these qualities thus becomes crucial. Kaplan provides two comprehensive lists for reference.

Planetary Influences:

Sun: overall dominion
Moon: sentiment, intuition
Mercury: intellect
Venus: emotions
Mars: enterprise
Jupiter: wisdom
Saturn: experience
Uranus: inspiration
Neptune: insight, keen vision
Zodiacal Qualities:

Aries: ruled by Mars. Leadership, creativity, boldness, ambition, kindness
Taurus: ruled by Venus. Stability, consistency, conservatism, strong emotions, love of material beauty
Gemini: ruled by Mercury. Restlessness, duality, quick intellect, friendship
Cancer: ruled by the Moon. Determination, fluid emotion, love of home and children, indulgence
Leo: ruled by the Sun. Deep emotion, strong-willed, reliability, adaptability, sensitivity
Virgo: ruled by Mercury. Order, analysis, caution, prudence, generosity, loyalty
Libra: also ruled by Venus. Energy, justice, thoughtfulness, sentimentality, love of art and beauty
Scorpio: also ruled by Mars. Tenacity, dignity, reserve, courage, firmness, shrewdness
Sagittarius: ruled by Jupiter. Candor, impulse, nobility, independence, impatience, diligence
Capricorn: ruled by Saturn. Scholarly, thinking, slowness, self-reliance, love of teaching and knowledge
Aquarius: also ruled by Uranus. Inspiration, eccentricity, frugality, fidelity, love of nature
Pisces: ruled by Neptune. Persuasiveness, intuition, honesty, calmness, friendliness

The significance of the letters in the mystical alphabets isn't explicitly elucidated by Kaplan, leaving ample room for personal interpretation. I've noted parallels between some of the Minor Arcana's magical letters and those of the Transitus Fluvii Alphabet, itself derived from Hebrew. As I am somewhat familiar with the traditionally ascribed meanings of the Hebrew letters, I'm inclined to apply these interpretations to the Transitus Fluvii letters on specific cards. (A few of the magical letters in the deck seem to come from the Malachim Alphabet.)

Reading Kaplan's introduction has been quite enlightening. I will apply the knowledge I've gained in future analyses of the cards. With each shuffle and draw, the cards reveal a newfound richness, inviting me to decipher their enigmatic messages.

The Song of Nehushtan

Amidst a struggle for political independence, King Hezekiah, the thirteenth ruler after David, sought not only to free Judah from the grip of the Assyrian Empire, but also to secure the religious sovereignty of Israel's God. To cleanse the people from foreign cultic practices, Hezekiah dismantled revered symbols of old, including the high places and the bronze serpent crafted by Moses in the wilderness.

In the Second Book of Kings, we glimpse Hezekiah's devotion to the God of Israel:

"Hezekiah the son of Ahaz king of Judah began to reign. And he did that which was right in the eyes of the LORD. He removed the high places, and broke the pillars, and cut down the Asherah; and he broke in pieces the brazen serpent that Moses had made; for unto those days the children of Israel did offer to it; and it was called Nehushtan." – 2 Kings 18

Hezekiah's loyalty to the God of Israel was rewarded with a miraculous plague that decimated the Assyrian army. Yet, I cannot help but wonder what songs the ancient Judeans had sung to Nehushtan, the Fiery Serpent, when seeking healing and protection. What offerings and gifts accompanied their supplications to the fiery serpent?

Although those songs have been lost to time, I have endeavored to compose a piece that may evoke the spirit of those ancient hymns and echo the praises our ancestors once sang. Adorned with archaic language from the 1611 King James Version of the Bible, this hypothetical hymn, inspired by Jason' Miller's presentation of an invocation from the Greek Magical Papyri and by two biblical stories, pays tribute to Nehushtan.

May these words recall our ancestors' devotion and offer a glimpse into a time when Nehushtan held a place of veneration in the hearts of our people. Join me in offering a tribute to this symbol that represents healing throughout the world and recalls the faith of our ancestors.

O Victorious and Majestic One,
Thou who hast been and shall forever be.
“The number of Thine years cannot be searched out,”
From “everlasting to everlasting” is thy majesty.

In the wilderness, Thy radiant presence shone.
When “the Lord was angered, He sent forth serpents” amongst our fathers.
But “Moses wrought a fiery serpent and raised” You upon The Pole.
Our fathers gazed into Thine eyes, “and they lived.”
May we, their children, witness Thy greatness once more, Nehushtan.

In the Land, Thou harkened to our vibrant cries,
We entreated Thee, “remember the battle,” that strife may cease.
—Should God's wrath stir once more,
“Shatter our foes” with Thy fearsome might!

When Thou dost rise, the mighty tremble,
“Thy teeth are terrible round about,”
Thy scales are Thy pride “and cannot be sundered.”
Thine heart, as steadfast as stone, is “firm as nether mil-stone.”
“Upon the earth, who is like unto Thee,” fearless art Thou made.

Thine eyes do flash forth light, like morning's eyelids bright,
“Out of Thy mouth go burning torches, and sparks of fire leap.”
“Out of Thy nostrils goeth smoke, as a seething pot and burning rushes.”
“Thou maketh a path to shine after Thyself.”

Praise and adoration to thee, Nehushtan, our Healer,
“In Thy neck, strength resides, turning sorrow to joy,”
Thou, O Serpent, art always our beacon of hope,
With reverence, we bring gifts unto Thee,
May Thy presence abide with us, now and forevermore.

Quotations are from Job 26:36, Psalm 90:2, Numbers 21:5-9, Job 41:8, Psalm 68:21, Job 41:14, Job 41:19, and Job 41:22 in the 1611 KJV and from the JPS Translation.

Hekate Haiku

Over the last few months, a rambling essay has become a haiku (mostly 5-7-5). The first two lines of each verse are about Hekate and the world, then a dash indicates a momentary break in my focus on Her, while my thoughts turn to my separate self.

Precious Ekáti
Hills blush in the morning light
   —I stand in rev'rence

Inhabit Your throne
“Io Heka Io Ho”
   —I beg Your guidance

Bestow your wisdom
Revealing blessings unseen
   —Pure prayer presented

Unending grace flows
Your touch transforms all beings
   —And my hands...

Keyholder, Sorc'ress
Torch-lit paths disclose delight
   —Honor You in deeds

Essence of the world
Light and darkness of this realm
   —I go beyond now

Together we stride
"Eghosé ethelésa"
   —Evermore, will I follow