While I re-coup from way too much theology, please enjoy this poem I wrote about Hekate. 

To Heavenly, Night-Wandering Hekate I call
Mistress of the skies,
In whose black pocket lies
The fiery secret mysteries of stars

Goddess who guards the gates of the eyes and ears
Who gives consciousness to the dead
Or lays them down to spiritual slumber
Raise your fire brands high
Let wisdom’s light shine true

To Chthonian Hekate, I call
Mistress of Furies and Shades
Who knows the sleeping anguish of every soul
that walks upon the ground,
or lies below it

O Holy Goddess of the Midden
The lost, the forgotten, the cast-off are yours
Like the grave, you reject no one
And hidden in the deep bosom in the Earth
The seeds of equality:
Death comes to all.

To Hekate of the Sea, I call
There, even there, are your treasures found
Hidden Wisdom of Ages
Buried in the belly of the waves
Icons of Deities Discarded
Guarded safe in deep salt brine
Away from the hammers of strange piety
Attended by the drowned
Poseidon’s share of the dead

Open for me the Gates of Knowing, great goddess
Open for me the way
That the path I walk may ever be bright
Each pebble and thorn sharply seen
Guard me safe from life’s perils

And guard them safe from me.