Now that Heliogenna is over, I am pondering the sister festival to be held at the Summer Solstice. What I need is a name, and some of the Greek words i have managed to come up with are not pretty, at lest to American ears. Since the sun is at its height, its glory, I thought of simply calling it Feast of the Glorious Sun: Γιορτή του λαμπρού ήλιου (GiortEE too lampOO EEleeoo), but that is not really workable (We can do it in English, of course, but why not try to come up woth a Greek type name). The Longest Day also came to mind: Η μακρύτερη ημέρα (EE makrEEtehree eemEHrah) but that is, again, unworkable to most people.

So, how about some help.

Let's come up with a name for this three day festival and get it going now...

There is a party in my home right now. It started last night, and I invited a few people over who I have known for a couple of years and who are all pagan of one type or another. This is the first time I have ever had a religious holiday like this, and they have never really discussed or had the chance to celebrate anything outside of their more generalized neo-pagan experiences.

This morning, however, we are doing a sunrise prayer by the river and pouring out a bottle of wine to the Gods. Because of my particular beliefs on the matter, they all agreed to make it the Greek Gods alone, but I decided to be a little flexible, and one of them is doing an invocation of Odin. I am actually kind of looking forward to it, now that I am committed to it.

At this point we have been drinking, watching movies, listening to all manner of music, and we have even been in the throws of Aphrodite's charms a couple of times, but I won't go into details there.

The Sun will be up soon, so we are going to walk down to the river, bundled up as it is rather cold, but luckily the Gods have held back the rain this morning. Once all that is done I have to come back home and get ready for work, as I volunteered to work for someone with children who really wanted to be with them for her Christmas gift openings.

One of the guys also brought with him some light tissue paper, and we have all written upon them some thanks and hopes for the future. We won't be able to start a fire by the river, the city will not allow it, but we will be lighting them and sending them off to the Gods. This section of the river doesn't have any trees by it, so there is no chance we will catch some stray dry leaves and start a fire, and the grass stays green all year long there.

Hope your day goes well, and that whatever holidays, festivals, or sacred days you are celebrating make you feel joy and happiness.

In hnor of Dionysos and Apollo, I am off work today, and I will be heading to town for a few good drinks. This will be later tonight, but in the meantime, the Gods Dionysos and Apollo are being offered incense and prayer today.

To Apollo, a prayer of farewell:

Go North, o god of light, and be well.
Go North, o god of healing, and make well those in need.
Go North, o god of the song, and let music guide us to laughter.
Go North, o god of purification, and let me be pure this day.

Come again, o god, when your time has come.
Come again, o god, when the spring time comes.
Come again o god, when we need you the most.

To Dionysos, an old prayer/poem I wrote many years ago:

Eyes like the fruit of the vine.
You grow with tremendous speed to cover the brown earth.
Sprawled forth to catch the light of day in your growth and maturation.
Your purpose a mystery, your power unthinkable, your stregth immeasurable.

Mind like the turbulent storm, your father.
You grow green and resplendent suckling from the bosom of our mother.
Relishing in the heat of the sun, your fruit the promise to come.
Your wild nature a sign from above, a power from below, a brother you are.

Body like the most beautiful of men.
You grow virile and filled with the passion of life.
Lying upon a bed of leaves, your legs spread just so much, inviting.
Your promises of lust, of knowledge, of madness lying at the very edge of mind.

Soul like the fire of the sun, like the darkness of night.
You whither and die, your ebbing power still too much to bear.
Swimming in a sea of pain, your ashes all that remains.
Your seed planted will once again rise, from the depths of death and darkness.

Godhead like the fog of morning.
You come and go at will, yours or mine I cannot say.
Sitting at the seat of our souls like a flower cut in full bloom.
Your gifts are innumerable, my acceptance fraught with fear and loathing.

Eyes like the fruit of the vine.
You look at me and I can feel it.
Staring at the child I once was, at the man I have become.
Your pleasures are mine, my abuse of them my curse forever more.

Day Seven marks the first day of Sunrise, the celebration of the return of the sun. From this day forth, the days will be longer, and with that the Spring will eventually come.

The Sun rises victorious and glorious into the heavens, and with it the hopes of man. I am celebrating today with a good night of dancing, drinking, and fun, but also with offerings of scented candles to the Gods Apollo, Helios, Eros, and Selene as well as to the celestial aspects of Zeus, Athena, and Hera. Aphrodite of the people I will also celebrate, but perhaps I will keep that to myself.

My altars are ablaze with the light of candles, and my home smells of nag champa and various floral and spice incense.

I will dedicate my drink to Helios tonight, and to Selene the bright moon.

Blessings.

Gaea and Demeter are the focuses of my devotions today, the Sixth Day of Heliogenna and the third day of Night.

A kind of Mother's Day for the Gods, this day is dedicated to celebrating the aspects of the Goddesses as Mothers. For this reason, I am offering milk to the earth today, and incense to the Olympian Demeter s well as prayers to Hera, Aphrodite, and the three virgins whose maternal aspects are often well hidden in the allegories of protection and the befriending of heroes.

In keeping with the mood of Night, I will offer too to the mourning Demeter, who mourns the loss of her blessed divine daughter who dwells in the world below.

For this, I plan to do a reading of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter when I get home from work...
_____

II. TO DEMETER

I begin to sing of rich-haired Demeter, awful goddess
-- of her and her trim-ankled daughter whom Aidoneus rapt away,
given to him by all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer.

Apart from Demeter, lady of the golden sword and
glorious fruits, she was playing with the deep-bosomed daughters
of Oceanus and gathering flowers over a soft meadow, roses and
crocuses and beautiful violets, irises also and hyacinths and the
narcissus, which Earth made to grow at the will of Zeus and to
please the Host of Many, to be a snare for the bloom-like girl --
a marvellous, radiant flower. It was a thing of awe whether for
deathless gods or mortal men to see: from its root grew a hundred
blooms and is smelled most sweetly, so that all wide heaven above
and the whole earth and the sea's salt swell laughed for joy.
And the girl was amazed and reached out with both hands to take
the lovely toy; but the wide-pathed earth yawned there in the
plain of Nysa, and the lord, Host of Many, with his immortal
horses sprang out upon her -- the Son of Cronos, He who has many
names.

He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bare
her away lamenting. Then she cried out shrilly with her voice,
calling upon her father, the Son of Cronos, who is most high and
excellent. But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal
men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit:
only tender-hearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of
Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave, and the lord Helios,
Hyperion's bright son, as she cried to her father, the Son of
Cronos. But he was sitting aloof, apart from the gods, in his
temple where many pray, and receiving sweet offerings from mortal
men. So he, that Son of Cronos, of many names, who is Ruler of
Many and Host of Many, was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on
his immortal chariot -- his own brother's child and all
unwilling.

And so long as she, the goddess, yet beheld earth and
starry heaven and the strong-flowing sea where fishes shoal, and
the rays of the sun, and still hoped to see her dear mother and
the tribes of the eternal gods, so long hope calmed her great
heart for all her trouble....
((LACUNA))
....and the heights of the mountains and the depths of the sea
rang with her immortal voice: and her queenly mother heard her.

Bitter pain seized her heart, and she rent the
covering upon her divine hair with her dear hands: her dark cloak
she cast down from both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird,
over the firm land and yielding sea, seeking her child. But no
one would tell her the truth, neither god nor mortal men; and of
the birds of omen none came with true news for her. Then for
nine days queenly Deo wandered over the earth with flaming
torches in her hands, so grieved that she never tasted ambrosia
and the sweet draught of nectar, nor sprinkled her body with
water. But when the tenth enlightening dawn had come, Hecate,
with a torch in her hands, met her, and spoke to her and told her
news:

`Queenly Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of
good gifts, what god of heaven or what mortal man has rapt away
Persephone and pierced with sorrow your dear heart? For I heard
her voice, yet saw not with my eyes who it was. But I tell you
truly and shortly all I know.'

So, then, said Hecate. And the daughter of rich-
haired Rhea answered her not, but sped swiftly with her, holding
flaming torches in her hands. So they came to Helios, who is
watchman of both gods and men, and stood in front of his horses:
and the bright goddess enquired of him: `Helios, do you at least
regard me, goddess as I am, if ever by word or deed of mine I
have cheered your heart and spirit. Through the fruitless air I
heard the thrilling cry of my daughter whom I bare, sweet scion
of my body and lovely in form, as of one seized violently; though
with my eyes I saw nothing. But you -- for with your beams you
look down from the bright upper air Over all the earth and sea --
tell me truly of my dear child, if you have seen her anywhere,
what god or mortal man has violently seized her against her will
and mine, and so made off.'

So said she. And the Son of Hyperion answered her:
`Queen Demeter, daughter of rich-haired Rhea, I will tell you the
truth; for I greatly reverence and pity you in your grief for
your trim-ankled daughter. None other of the deathless gods is
to blame, but only cloud-gathering Zeus who gave her to Hades,
her father's brother, to be called his buxom wife. And Hades
seized her and took her loudly crying in his chariot down to his
realm of mist and gloom. Yet, goddess, cease your loud lament
and keep not vain anger unrelentingly: Aidoneus, the Ruler of
Many, is no unfitting husband among the deathless gods for your
child, being your own brother and born of the same stock: also,
for honour, he has that third share which he received when
division was made at the first, and is appointed lord of those
among whom he dwells.'

So he spake, and called to his horses: and at his
chiding they quickly whirled the swift chariot along, like long-
winged birds.

But grief yet more terrible and savage came into the
heart of Demeter, and thereafter she was so angered with the
dark-clouded Son of Cronos that she avoided the gathering of the
gods and high Olympus, and went to the towns and rich fields of
men, disfiguring her form a long while. And no one of men or
deep-bosomed women knew her when they saw her, until she came to
the house of wise Celeus who then was lord of fragrant Eleusis.
Vexed in her dear heart, she sat near the wayside by the Maiden
Well, from which the women of the place were used to draw water,
in a shady place over which grew an olive shrub. And she was
like an ancient woman who is cut off from childbearing and the
gifts of garland-loving Aphrodite, like the nurses of king's
children who deal justice, or like the house-keepers in their
echoing halls. There the daughters of Celeus, son of Eleusis,
saw her, as they were coming for easy-drawn water, to carry it in
pitchers of bronze to their dear father's house: four were they
and like goddesses in the flower of their girlhood, Callidice and
Cleisidice and lovely Demo and Callithoe who was the eldest of
them all. They knew her not, -- for the gods are not easily
discerned by mortals -- but standing near by her spoke winged
words:

`Old mother, whence and who are you of folk born
long ago? Why are you gone away from the city and do not draw
near the houses? For there in the shady halls are women of just
such age as you, and others younger; and they would welcome you
both by word and by deed.'

Thus they said. And she, that queen among
goddesses answered them saying: `Hail, dear children, whosoever
you are of woman-kind. I will tell you my story; for it is not
unseemly that I should tell you truly what you ask. Doso is my
name, for my stately mother gave it me. And now I am come from
Crete over the sea's wide back, -- not willingly; but pirates
brought be thence by force of strength against my liking.
Afterwards they put in with their swift craft to Thoricus, and
there the women landed on the shore in full throng and the men
likewise, and they began to make ready a meal by the stern-cables
of the ship. But my heart craved not pleasant food, and I fled
secretly across the dark country and escaped by masters, that
they should not take me unpurchased across the sea, there to win
a price for me. And so I wandered and am come here: and I know
not at all what land this is or what people are in it. But may
all those who dwell on Olympus give you husbands and birth of
children as parents desire, so you take pity on me, maidens, and
show me this clearly that I may learn, dear children, to the
house of what man and woman I may go, to work for them cheerfully
at such tasks as belong to a woman of my age. Well could I nurse
a new born child, holding him in my arms, or keep house, or
spread my masters' bed in a recess of the well-built chamber, or
teach the women their work.'

So said the goddess. And straightway the unwed
maiden Callidice, goodliest in form of the daughters of Celeus,
answered her and said:

`Mother, what the gods send us, we mortals bear
perforce, although we suffer; for they are much stronger than we.

But now I will teach you clearly, telling you the names of men
who have great power and honour here and are chief among the
people, guarding our city's coif of towers by their wisdom and
true judgements: there is wise Triptolemus and Dioclus and
Polyxeinus and blameless Eumolpus and Dolichus and our own brave
father. All these have wives who manage in the house, and no one
of them, so soon as she has seen you, would dishonour you and
turn you from the house, but they will welcome you; for indeed
you are godlike. But if you will, stay here; and we will go to
our father's house and tell Metaneira, our deep-bosomed mother,
all this matter fully, that she may bid you rather come to our
home than search after the houses of others. She has an only
son, late-born, who is being nursed in our well-built house, a
child of many prayers and welcome: if you could bring him up
until he reached the full measure of youth, any one of womankind
who should see you would straightway envy you, such gifts would
our mother give for his upbringing.'

So she spake: and the goddess bowed her head in
assent. And they filled their shining vessels with water and
carried them off rejoicing. Quickly they came to their father's
great house and straightway told their mother according as they
had heard and seen. Then she bade them go with all speed and
invite the stranger to come for a measureless hire. As hinds or
heifers in spring time, when sated with pasture, bound about a
meadow, so they, holding up the folds of their lovely garments,
darted down the hollow path, and their hair like a crocus flower
streamed about their shoulders. And they found the good goddess
near the wayside where they had left her before, and led her to
the house of their dear father. And she walked behind,
distressed in her dear heart, with her head veiled and wearing a
dark cloak which waved about the slender feet of the goddess.

Soon they came to the house of heaven-nurtured
Celeus and went through the portico to where their queenly mother
sat by a pillar of the close-fitted roof, holding her son, a
tender scion, in her bosom. And the girls ran to her. But the
goddess walked to the threshold: and her head reached the roof
and she filled the doorway with a heavenly radiance. Then awe
and reverence and pale fear took hold of Metaneira, and she rose
up from her couch before Demeter, and bade her be seated. But
Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of perfect gifts, would not
sit upon the bright couch, but stayed silent with lovely eyes
cast down until careful Iambe placed a jointed seat for her and
threw over it a silvery fleece. Then she sat down and held her
veil in her hands before her face. A long time she sat upon the
stool without speaking because of her sorrow, and greeted no
one by word or by sign, but rested, never smiling, and tasting
neither food nor drink, because she pined with longing for her
deep-bosomed daughter, until careful Iambe -- who pleased her
moods in aftertime also -- moved the holy lady with many a quip
and jest to smile and laugh and cheer her heart. Then Metaneira
filled a cup with sweet wine and offered it to her; but she
refused it, for she said it was not lawful for her to drink red
wine, but bade them mix meal and water with soft mint and give
her to drink. And Metaneira mixed the draught and gave it to the
goddess as she bade. So the great queen Deo received it to
observe the sacrament....

So, I have purchased Incense, cream, and wine. I also found a couple of urns at a local shop that are very pretty, and i think the aesthetic is important, and which can hold dirt for my libations and water for cleansing of miasma.

At this point, the Altar of the Virgins will be the focal point of this celebration for me, and I am thinking of inviting a couple of guys, both pagans, to participate in some prayer and ritual with me. Both have shown interest in my practice in the past. So the morning of the 17th I will dismantle this altar, clean it, and rebuild it then begin the day with devotion to Hestia. I mention this here because I will likely forget to mention it as I go, since this is not something unusual for me to do several times a year.

Along with the two little urns, I also have a cast iron urn that I burn incense in, and that too is in neo-classical style.

I don't necessarily believe in ritual clothing, and I do often worship nude (never outside, mind you) so I may simply go this route. (My two friends won't be shocked)

Take care for now...

The preparations, for someone like me, are simple. I am a solitary practitioner, and as such have little to do. A small shopping list:

• Nine candles, scented with sandalwood, a pleasing smell for the Gods.
  
• Nine glass cylinders to place the candles in, these are rather inexpensive, and I have several of them already.
  
• For each day, a different kind of incense to be offered, except for the fifth day. I buy online from Santosha or Shoyeido
  
• I will be offering up burnt offerings of prayers on paper. Someone has suggested very light cigarette paper, I will try it.
  
• Three bottles of wine to be used as libations to the heavenly.
  
• Milk and Honey to be used as libations to the Chthonic Gods.
  
• And finally, I plan to cook up a feast to share with some friends, but failing that, take them out to dinner somewhere I can afford, but still fairly nice.
  

These things are what I will need, however, as the days approach, I may find myself thinking of other things that will make this a special occasion for me.