Sannion has written a lovely sequence of daily prayers to Dionysos, one for each day of the week. Check them out here: via Daily Hymns
It is to You Whom I turn when the night is darkest.
It is to You, Whom I cry when I am beset and surrounded,
by enemies as thick in number as an unkindness of ravens.
When I call, Oh my Lord, Your arrows gleam so viciously bright in the shadows.
I know I have nothing to fear.
You, Far-Shooter stalk those Who would harm the Gods’ servants,
Your arrows rattling in their quiver, their rhythm making the Moon smile.
You protect what is Your own. You keep pure Your sanctuaries.
You dance across the field of battle before the opponent
even realizes their last dawn has come, splendid in Your wardance.
You, Mighty One, avert all evil, all miasma, all pollution, all harm.
The glorious swan cries a paean to herald Your coming.
Great shooter from afar, Your arrows always find Their mark.
You restore, Lord of the ash, Lord of the bow, Lord of restoration.
May You always be praised. May I always praise You,
and know my place before You in service.
(image by L. Perkins; prayer by G. Krasskova)
Thank you, Hermes,
Oh, Giver of Good things.
Before my prayer was even fully uttered,
You answered it.
What a sweet and unexpected gift,
a grace and an utter delight!
I rest safe in the knowledge
that You, clever and generous God,
most gracious, most loving,
protect and provide.
Before the shape of my need
has even been formed in my heart,
You have spied it out.
You have showered me
with unexpected blessings,
large and small.
I am grateful, Oh my God,
so immensely grateful,
and ever will I honor You.
Hail Hermes, ever my Champion.(1)
(by G. Krasskova)
1. One of His by names is Promakhos – champion.
She is a Goddess,
and Her name means grace,
righteous balance, and devotion.
She knows all the ways
In which to right our world.
She knows and proffers them to us
With holy hands.
She is harmony,
The resounding melody
Of all the spheres
Dancing in perfect rhythm.
She is ratio and perfection.
She is the royal road
Open to us all.
She has no need of armor or spear,
Sword or terrifying mace,
Though Her blessings fall
On every right-minded man
And woman too
Going forth to do their duty.
She has only to reveal Herself,
To enter a place, a heart, a home
And it is transformed
Into a victorious field
Where enemies of the Gods
May no longer dwell.
Hail to You, Pietas,
A Beauty found only in You,
By which we are raised up.
(by G. Krasskova)
Great and Gracious Goddess,
this is my prayer to You today.
I come to You with humble heart
and in devotion.
Teach me to honor myself,
so that I may go into relationships clean.
Teach me to love, without fear of commitment
those to whom I have chosen to commit,
to cultivate steadfastness, respect, fidelity,
to honor my boundaries
and the boundaries of those around me.
Teach me to be vulnerable
both in strength and submission
that I may never misuse my heart and my needs
in those relationships, I cherish.
Teach me to tease through the complications
in ways that bring value to my relationships, my home,
my commitments, that love may grow and be shared
in ways that honor You and all parties involved.
For when we truly honor ourselves and respect who we are,
and what those things mean to us,
that is when we can more fully love those around us,
respect them, appreciate them
and thus, better fulfill
our commitments to the Powers.
Help us, oh Goddess, for when we do not know ourselves
we run the risk of being subsumed into the needs of others,
and in so doing forgetting ourselves, our sacred work,
our obligations to Gods, family, community, and our own souls.
Bless us, Oh Goddess, with the wisdom of growth,
even when we struggle.
Hail to You, Goddess of boundaries,
for honoring boundaries is the first step
to cultivating a deep and abiding love.
Hail, Pudicitia, called Patricia, called Plebeia,
honored by high and low alike. Hail.
(by T. Vitta and G. Krasskova)
Day 1: for Pietas
In the morning, before the sun rises,
while the moon still illuminates the sky,
gently inspiring with His beauty,
You rise to tend Your day.
Before the frenetic rush and riot
of family, work, and all Your daily tasks
vie for Your attention,
You seek out the comfort of the moon,
moments of serenity in which to order Your tasks;
and in that ordering, in the sanctuary of heart and mind,
You finger each sacred obligation, each connection,
each covenanted commitment like the precious jewels they are,
and You remember, calling to mind their value, their importance,
and all the reasons You hold them true.
May we too do the same, oh Goddess,
may we restore and renew in the fastness of our beings,
all the sacred covenants to which we are bound.
May we remind ourselves again and again,
why we do this, and the love we bear
for our Gods and dead.
Hail to You, Pietas, may Your name
ever be spoken in reverence.
Day 1: for Pudicitia
You rise by moonlight, bright and shining,
cover Your head and seek the grace of offerings.
The resources of the home are at Your disposal.
You garb Yourself in respect, modesty, and self-control.
You are mindful of Your position and the obligations therein.
The incense You offer carries Your prayers to the Heavens,
for even the Holy Ones pray for a continuation of goodly order.
The wise wife follows Your example,
inspires the women in her home in piety,
honors her man with her integrity.
She is an adornment to Her home,
wealth beyond measure.
Goodness and bounty flow from her hands.
She restores and holds true to her commitments.
Bless us oh Goddess of chastity,
with the grace of mindfulness,
that we may honor You and the Holy Ones
in all we do.
(by G. Krasskova)
He who gives me what I rarely remember
Morpheus, Great God of Dreams, I have a question to ask of you:
Why do I so rarely remember my dreams?
I know that I do dream; all humans do, even my kind.
And yet, I so rarely remember mine.
And what I do remember is so tantalizing, it draws me back to sleep,
To trade the mundane of waking life for the majesty of dream.
Perhaps that is why Morpheus, in His Divine wisdom,
does not allow me to remember my dreams.
For the Gods are above us, and their gifts are Theirs to parcel out as needed.
And that has always been the way of things; though our society refuses to acknowledge it.
I understand that truth – I learned it a dream I do remember.
And now I hail He who gives me what I rarely remember.
My Dead, of whom I can always dream
Perhaps someone who does not live the veneration of the Dead,
Might naively believe that those who do never feel the pain of loss.
Sadly, that is not the case.
Indeed, some days – in my opinion – it is even worse;
We talk as though face to face, with those who have traveled to that undiscovered country,
And that makes it all the more terrible when we cannot feel their comforting touch again,
When their presence is spiritual, rather than physical,
When their voices are the muffled moans of the buried Dead.
But all praise be, to the Great God of Dreams.
For Morpheus, so noble is He,
He who allows us mortals the gift of dreams.
And we can always meet our Dead in our dreams.
And feel their touch again. And smell their smell again.
And hear their voices with our ears, not just our hearts.
Musing on Morpheus, Mnemosyne, and Mortality
The God of Dreams and the Goddess of Memories – what is the connection?
And why do thoughts of both come into my mind in connection with my Dead?
The Author of the dreams that drive us,
The Mother of the Muses who inspire us;
What is the connection?
To sleep, perchance to dream, now, that is the question;
But what is the connection?
As I ponder this, another question enters my mind:
Do the Dead dream?
The answer is, most likely, known only to the Dead themselves.
But the living are at least allowed to speculate.
And when I speculate, I feel another question enter my mind:
Are those who dream, not dead to this world while they dream?
For what is a dream, but one of two things:
A vision sent onto the sleeping by the Holy Powers;
The brain’s attempt to process random electrical discharges within it during sleep,
as influenced by the memories it contains.
And thus – the Connection.
Morpheus, the God of Dream. Mnemosyne, the Goddess of Memory.
Both are Deities of the Mind.
Both are tangentially connected to Mortality.
When we dream with the dead, we must thank Morpheus.
When we dream of the dead, we must thank Mnemosyne.
My praise to Morpheus!
Hail He who allows us to dream with our dead.
My praise to Mnemosyne!
Sing for She who allows us to remember our dead.
Here is the first entry to the Agon for Morpheus. This Agon runs through Feb. 15.
Shape shifter and God of Dreams.
Here I am,
falling in the dusky depths
of my restless mind,
Please draw near.
As my body leans back
in my small and modest, (but comfy) bed
I call You in the dark.
Come close, winged God.
Draw near, God of Dreams.
Please dwell for a while in my mind.
Catch me in Your arms tonight
and take me to that secret place
that You know oh so well,
where the Gods reside
in glimmering robes
in sumptuous palaces
under bright starry nights;
that place filled
with the sweetest perfumes
I have ever sensed
and the memories
of a million million lives
that the Gods remember bit by bit,
tear by tear, joy by joy;
that secret place
hidden in plain view
known to few mortals
familiar to all Gods
where I can find my Beloved.
Help me find Him.
there is no end to the lengths I’d go
to find Him.
I’d climb any mountain
barefoot in the freezing snow.
I’d fall through any stream.
I’d suffer extreme cold,
tearing hunger and thirst,
pain like no other.
I’d walk through a fiery burning fire,
slowly, in my knees,
and I’d do that
again and again and again
Just to find Him,
just to see Him for a split second
I’d tear myself to pieces.
He is my Sweet Lord, my Beloved.
Help me find Him, God of Dreams.
Because I know You can help me find Him.
Because You know what He means for me.
Oh please help me find Him
In sacred sleep, devout and pure,
Secured in Your arms.
Please guide me there
by Vanessa M.