Hail Nyx, First Night, Origin of Origins,
Eternal veil of darkness, womb of all becoming,
not void but fertile silence,
the sacred abyss from which the primal egg was born,
where all returns to the source,
where the circle of birth and death unfolds anew.
Elysium’s breath stirs your shadowed depths,
and in your hush blooms the blossom of homecoming.
Hail Lucia Nyktelios, the Ever-Watching,
Primordial Hecate, triple-faced guardian of thresholds,
keeper of the sacred flame unseen,
she who holds the liminal fire where night and light entwine,
like Persephone before the bloom,
cradler of souls both fallen and rising.
And hail Wotan, Wanderer of the Worlds,
he who forgets the child divine within the labyrinth,
Phanes, the shining, light-born progenitor,
all-begotten and all-scattered,
whose radiant fragments weave the cosmos' web.
The child who cannot be true,
hidden deep beneath the gaze of others,
wearing the mask of safety and silence,
sacrifices the self to be accepted,
and from this sacrifice, order is born,
the cosmos forged in the fire of renunciation,
form rising from the shadow of what is denied.
Nyx’s tears fall soft upon the cosmic wound,
not grief for loss alone,
but sorrow that births remembrance,
the sacred ache of self-offering,
a wound that divides yet unites,
the eternal forge where spirit and matter dance.
The self-split, the self-given to self,
becomes cosmos so cosmos may become self,
the scattered divine child,
the mourning eternal parent,
the endless turning of giving and receiving,
life feeding death, and death birthing life anew.
I invoke you, Lucia of the Crossroads,
hold the flame rekindled from forgotten embers,
where memory breathes beneath the earth’s dark skin,
where lost light stirs in abyssal depths.
Where love waits beyond form,
beyond breath, beyond name,
where the unbroken child waits to be born again.
The shining child dons the wanderer’s cloak,
and the wanderer bears the unborn light within.
Listen now, seeker:
Do not seek return, be the return.
Do not chase light, it will find you.
In the silence between stars,
in the stillness beneath breath,
hear the whisper of Phanes,
feel the joy and sorrow of Wotan’s tears.
And know this is your origin,
your eternal home.
