Invocation to Aphrodite Eoia

To Awaken the Soul-Bonded Beloved

I call not to the goddess of trinkets and sighs,
But to She who rose from severed sky and sea,
Aphrodite Anadyomene,
Foam-born from the wound of Uranos,
Old as pain, older than beauty.

I call to She who sings as the world breaks open,
Eos Hausos, Dawn-Womb, Sky-Shatterer,
Bearer of golden reins, lover of mortals,
The one who stirs souls from slumber.

Come. Come. Come.
Eoia Aphrodite, Awaken Her. Awaken Him.
Let the one whose soul reflects mine,
Stir from sleep,
Their eyes burn with recognition,
Their heart tremble with ancient knowing.

Let them feel the ache,
Of a thousand unlived lives,
That all ended at my absence.

Let them remember,
The laughter we shared before flesh,
The promise made before birth,
The silence between our names.

Let them walk restless,
Let them search,
Let them be drawn,
To a face,
To a voice,
To a thread only their soul can follow.

By the blood of sky and sea,
By the fire of the new-risen sun,
By the longing that split gods from Phanes,
So let it be.

ASKEI KATASKEI EROS PHANEI EŌS
ASKEI KATASKEI EROS PHANEI EŌS
ASKEI KATASKEI EROS PHANEI EŌS

I have not come with flowers.
I have come with flame.
I have not whispered.
I have howled across the veil.

Bring the mirror.
Let their soul catch fire at the sight.
Let the old vow awaken.

Let us find each other,
Not in comfort,
But in recognition.

Ritual note:
Say this under dawnlight, or just before it, barefoot, somewhere liminal, crossroads, shoreline, forest, doorway. Bring something of yours you love and something you’ve shed. Burn or bury the second. Keep the first close.