Why, Hecate?

©Cameron Altaras

Why, Hecate, when you heard my scream,

Why did you not run and tell my mother?

Surely, wise Hecate, you knew it was not a cry of joy

It was not an outburst of girlish delight

And yet, you did not let my mother know.

Why, Hecate, when you heard my scream,

Why did you not grab your light and look for me?

Surely, wise Hecate, you knew I was too naïve to figure out

What was happening to me would damage my soul

And yet, you did not set out in search of me.

Why, Hecate, when you heard my scream,

Why did you wait until my mother’s heartsick wandering led her to you?

Surely, wise Hecate, your own maternal instincts knew the suffering

That for nine days ripped its way through my mother’s heart

And yet, you said nothing before you saw agony’s damage on her face.

Why, Hecate, when you heard my scream,

Why did you not go directly to Zeus?

Surely, wise Hecate, you suspected I was trapped by power’s abusive grip

It was not my choice to disappear in the middle of my youthful day

And yet, you did not plead my case to Zeus.

Why, Hecate, when you at last spoke to Zeus

Why did you not argue against the marriage he arranged for me?

Surely, wise Hecate, you knew my heart’s path was not in Hades’ darkness

You saw how I’d thrived in the sun’s creative and bountiful beauty

And yet, you acquiesced to a masculine twisting of my fate.

Why, Hecate, when you were my only hope

Why did you not step into your place as strong aunt, wise crone?

Only you could teach me words to defend myself, save myself, lift myself up

You could have taken me under your wing and counseled me

And yet, you stepped back to allow male desire to rise again to power.

Why, Hecate, when my mother refused to cooperate with the gods

Why did you not insist on punishment for Hades?

Each spring when I return, I tell my story to embolden others, those

You might see walk blindly to their fates in darkness

And yet, those souls who do succumb are nurtured by my being

            In the depths of Hades because even he

            Can never kill the light that’s in my soul.

This poem is published in Cameron Altaras and Sharla Nafziger, Confronting the Patterns that Silence Us (Seattle, WA: G Scott Works, 2023), 73-74.