The Movable Feast

In the forest clearing

In the urban warehouse

In the suburban living room

 

 

 

The Bakkhants meet

They pour out water and wine for the land, for the dead

And they call Them in

 

A Hymn to Hestios

I call to Dionysos Hestios, Host of the Revel

He of the furious dance and clearing cry

“Euhoi!” rings through the wild places, his voice

Burning away miasma, calling in the Mad Ones

 

The tracks of his feet mark the sacred boundary

His thrysos holds the center ‘round which all spin

Between these two none need bear burden or fetter

Such is the hospitality of Hestios

 

I call to Dionysos Hestios, Provider of the Feast

He of the booming laugh and round belly

Dark vine-twined hair spread wide

Tumbling down the back of his couch

 

Wine-jars overflowing, cups never empty

Tables laden with every delicious thing

There are none who hunger or thirst at His feast

Such is the hospitality of Hestios

 

Hestios! Hestios! Kyrie Hestios!

Thanks be to the god for the place in which we meet!

Thanks be to the god for the feast in which we partake!

Such is the hospitality of Dionysos Hestios!