To the Nymphs

I praise the lovely nymphs, maids ever fair who dance
and play, friends of the beasts, companions of the gods,
in all the wild world we see you, see your might
in the work of the wind, hear your voice in sweet birdsong.
Blessed ones, in the wilderness you make your home;
each tree, each stone, each winding river, in all of these
we find you. The field of flowers, gaudy, rich with scent;
the free-growing forest, artful yet unwrought;
the shady grove framed by arching oaks; the moss
that clings to stump and stone, all these you touch, all these
you shape with skillful hand and artist's eye. Lovely ones,
gracious ones whose gifts are well-sought, I honor you.

Athena

Glorious Athena, whose spirit stands so tall
and strong in shining cities, whose comfort is sought
by great heroes and by those who aspire to greatness,
whose courage and cleverness are without equal,
gracious Athena, I honor and revere you.
Athena, advisor of kings and queens, granter
of wisdom to those with wit to seek it, goddess
whose eye is ever fixed on the horizon,
goddess who is open to all possibilities,
goddess who is aware of all options, goddess
who in every game thinks ahead to its every
ending. Athena, mistress of the long view,
I call to you to show me what will be, I call
to you to guide me through the world's intricacies.
Athena, steel-eyed goddess, I sing of your might,
I praise your name, I thank you for your many gifts.

Demeter

Fair-haired Demeter, daughter of nimble-footed Rhea,
grandchild of deep-hearted Gaia, mother of
bright-eyed Persephone: in you, as in them all,
is the soul of the earth. The golden grain is yours,
O Demeter, and the heavy-fruited trees,
the dark rich soil and the seeds that hide within.
Friend of the farmer, friend of all who rely
on your goodness and kindness, your gift of growth,
your gift of bread, your gift of all our lives. Demeter,
bountiful lady, with each spring's greening of the land
you give us hope; with each rich harvest that hope
is answered. Demeter, good mother, I praise you.

Dionysos

I praise Dionysos, lord of the vine, lord of
the far reaches of the mind; in the thick of the woods,
along darkened paths, in the shadows of dusk
and of dawn, you roam the world, the satyrs
and the pretty nymphs dancing in your wake. Son of
Zeus and fair-haired Semele, bold-hearted Semele
who dared to look into the face of glory,
beautiful Semele who you carried into life
again, Semele reborn who men called Thyone;
beloved of clever Ariadne, quick-witted one
so dear to your heart, your bright-eyed bride and consort;
Dionysos, friend of women, friend of the blissful,
wild-eyed maenads, pilgrims and pioneers, those who seek
your cheer and inspiration, those who seek your release
from sorrow and despair, those who are lost in joy
and those who have found themselves in you. Dionysos,
god of the darkest dark and the deepest deep,
boundless one, endless one, fathomless one,
in you we see the edges of ourselves, in you
we find our life's journey, in you we find our home.