The Huntress
The huntress becomes the hunted
Fleeing across a lonely plain in a moonlit night.
For so long the hunter relentlessly pursued her prey,
She searched in plains, forests, in hills
At the root and the roof of the world
Desperately and mercilessly seeking her answers,
her security, her loves, her fears, her dreams.
But when you found them, you couldn’t help yourself
You knelt down to worship wood and stone and flesh and air and a lie.
These dead things became idols and took on a semblance of life.
And then they became demons.
And they chased you back across the whole breadth and depth of the world,
Until the Sun arises and the daystar dawns in your heart.
Only the light of the Sun will save you now–
Will pierce through lies and air and flesh and wood and stone–
To turn these crazed creatures back into the small things they once were.
They look so small in daylight–and indeed they are small
For only in light do we see light.
So, don’t go hunting in the dark.
Artemis, give up your bow and learn to fight, not hunt, in the light of day.
