For a complex set of reasons that I will be saying more about over the next few days, I’ll be sharing–as a kind of “Sigillaria gift” of sorts–a number of poems I wrote several months ago, which I expected to appear in published form by now, but which haven’t/didn’t for reasons that are still not clear to me. I won’t say a lot more about it in the meantime to protect the potentially innocent and/or guilty parties, but given that last night was her “big night,” and she is always the BIG NIGHT, I would give pride of place in presenting these poems to Nyx. So, here it is.
I sing to you, queen before the heavens existed,
firstborn of goddesses, daughter of Chaos,
lady undaunted, her dark cloak overpowering all.
Every star in the firmament is but a fraction
of the beauty of your coronet, complete in constellations,
and the firmament itself is your thin tiara.
Pythagoras could not count the diamonds in your diadem,
nor could he calculate a single harmony of the spheres
which whirl and sing to you upon your ineffable skin.
There is no god on the earth nor goddess in the heavens
who does not exist enclosed within your blackness,
first goddess, eldest queen, dark lady over all–hail to you!