A Journey of Lifetimes

A trillion lifetimes wandered,

And the pilgrim trail arrives here,

In the audience chamber

Of the Queen of Tartarus.

A tiny smile,

The slightest hint of mirth

Quickens the face

Of the Chthonic Sovereign,

As I stand in awe,

My mind struck to silence,

My heart driven to raging

At the spectacle

Of She Who owns my days.

Her hair, blacker than a winter midnight,

Falls like a dark river over her shoulders,

Framing a pale beauty defying words

In which eyes of cold sapphire

And lips of bloody hue are set;

A serpent coils beneath her breasts,

And flows like fine oil, glistening,

Into folds of gossamer saffron

That wrap themselves like aether

Around the body of Her majesty.

A crown of many keys rests on Her brow,

And Her throne is hewn of rock

At the juncture where three roads meet,

Three highways of sinuous, molten fire,

Oozing, winding, flaring at the merest blink

Of this Mother of Gods.

For in my heart of hearts,

Deep, deep down,

I know Her Name,

And since the days of Time before Time,

She has fixed my footsteps

That, through myriad steps and missteps,

I should arrive here.

Not on some mountaintop

Replete with storms of trumpets,

And amidst a light so divine

It blinds the eyes,

But in the depths,

Within the caverns of creation,

Far in. Below. And under,

I stumble into the Throne Room

Of Wisdom.

Here I stand,

And here I fall to my knees,

Prostrate before the Queen,

I whisper: 'Hekate!'

©️2021 Ivan Latham