Lady of the islands and low-lying lands,
Mistress of the tides and the flowing waves,
Mother of the Morini and the maritime peoples,
Domina of lapdogs and hounds of every sort,
She Who is the hand upon the rudder,
The line suspending every anchor,
The glint of the guiding star along the shore:
Nehalennia, Great Goddess,
when the inundation comes
and drowns the low places
and the souls are overfull of doubt
and are submerged in sadness
may You lead them out, and across,
and on the secret trackways of the deep;
For Yours are the paths under the waves
and Yours the unknown roads upon tides,
Yours the baying of hounds in searching
and Yours the barks of greeting from dogs
who are Your children, and who welcome Your children
when they come to You at last when life runs dry
and it is Your fresh air You give them in death.
Hail to the Lady of the watery grove,
Whose hand rests upon the tiller of fate,
Who knows the bonds of life and sacrifice
woven between land and water from the elder days,
She who knows that wealth flows like water, channeled for a time before bursting bounds and sweeping all aside before it.
Hail too to the Lady of the faithful hound,
Who knows the bonds between water and the dead,
Who guides the dead to the isles in the West.
Hail Nehalennia, one and the same.
by C. Greene
by Dr. Emily K.
We shouted from the docks on the day You arrived,
Splendid and sailing up from the South,
Your barge trimmed with beaten gold.
A noble hound attended Your right hand
And a basket of the sweetest fruits spilled from Your left.
We have You now!
O Queen who has travelled in many lands,
Now at last in these low fields
Walled off and dug from the ocean
You are home at last.
Keep safe our sailors, silks, silver, slaves,
And all the wealth our merchants will display.
You will be our Mother
Until the day we come sailing to Your harbor
Hounds and health-bearing fruits laid by our sides
As we lie in earth
Seafaring in the mound
Then You will say to us:
By V. Morelli
I do not know You, Lady of bogs and marshes,
Goddess of all the liminal places that are home,
sometimes, to those of us who fit nowhere else.
You were venerated by many nations.
You were loved and honored, given sacrifice,
remembered in stone,
remembered in the stories of Your people.
We do not have those stories now.
We have only sparing inscriptions,
an image roughly carved – erased by time –
though surely once beautiful,
Your name, and the knowledge that once, once
not so very long ago, You ruled the trade-ways of the North.
You guaranteed wealth to those that honored You,
wealth of land and sea, wealth of devotion in the hearts of Your people,
a wealth of hope and peace and protection.
You shepherded the lost dead to their places of sanctuary.
You kept pollution and corruption from those sacred pathways.
You were guard and guide to our fragile humanity, and to the fragile passages
that mark our journey from life into death. It is right that once bogs were bloodied for You.
It is right that stones and markers, monuments to Your glory once rose, that Your name was hailed, cried out in longing and need, celebration and joy, devotion and deepest veneration
by numerous tongues, numerous voices, numerous people whose common meeting point
was the place where You heard their prayers.
Be hailed again and anew, Great Goddess.
Bless us again, Nehalennia,
and may we always remember Your name.
Hail, oh Goddess.
The Winner of the Persephone Agon, chose by div, is Alexeigynaix. Congratulations. i’ll be in touch today about your prizes.
Everyone else, thank you so much for submitting such lovely pieces to the Agon. May Persephone ever and always be hailed. 🙂 Please contact me at krasskova at gmail.com with your mailing addresses and also to let me know which prayer card you would like.
Here is the first submission to Nehellenia’s Agon.
Prayer to Nehalennia
May my life,
Be a boat under your guidance and protection,
Grant me strength,
To hold the rudder of my life,
And follow to the right direction.
Grant me wisdom,
To discern between the moment,
To anchorage or to start new voyages.
May the winds blow gently,
And no storms destroy the pleasure of living.
Grant me access to my inner treasures,
And to your deep mysteries.
Oh Lady, grant me prosperity and fullness!
by Bela Síol, 06/11/2012. (This. prayer is part of The Oracle and Nehalennia author Bela Síol and the artist Igor Alexandre).