Inkberry's Quill

The Temple of Artemis: The Riddle of the Humble Earth, the Wild Language of the Noble Horse & The Journey of the First Amazon

Posted on July 21, 2016

Under the cool canopy
Of a sacred Rowan tree,
The Goddess whispered:
To Become—
My Priestess,
To Be One with the Light…
You must first be brought low, Daughter.
How low,
Great Mother?
What trials must I endure,
To wear your mark
Upon my brow? The First Amazon asked…
There is no end to suffering,
And learning
For the Earthbound,
So there is no end to road you must walk.
On this road, you must traipse through fog
That hides curves and bends,
You must see the Realms beyond the Mist
Without the use of your eyes;
Your naked feet
Must feel every rock
And splinter,
Until the blood and cuts and bruises
Become like a memory
Like old friends…
So that you wear
The unforgiving road
Like a treasured pair of sandals.

Barefooted and blind,
Lost to civilization…
You must traverse the Wild Places
With all manner of creatures
And monsters
Without bladed weapons,
You must become a Master of Beasts
Learning their secrets,
Or be food in their bellies.
You must eat no flesh
And kill no living thing,
Save the plants
Nuts and fruits
Of My lands…
And of those you cut
Or pluck,
You must bow in gratitude
For their sacrifice
That nourishes your Essence;
You must gather twig,
And branch and leaf
Making an altar to praise My Sky,
You must sing and dance
Around the Fire
Of your camp,
And raise your hands to My Heavens
And call down the glorious Rain….
For you must earn
Your Light-filled Magick,
Dear One,
For only the humble
Wield My Gifts.

On your body
For these Trials alone,
You must wear no clothes
That mark you as a maiden
To any who pass-
You must wear the trappings
Of a Bard,
With a cape and a hood
And a staff made from this ancient tree;
You must carry yourself
As a Learned One
Wandering far and wide,
For in the world
There are creatures that will kill…
But man, of all, will steal
More than your life,
He will take
What is Sacred
And Beloved of your Goddess;
But know, My Child,
That a day will come
When you will not fear
To freely walk
In your own flesh,
And the Truth
Of your Heart and Mind,
Will hold more power
Than My Righteous Arrows…
Or your breasts.

When you reach the western lands
Near the Seas of a Titan
Known as Atlas,
You must follow the signs
Your Goddess grants
While the Veil
Is briefly lifted;
You will come upon
The Lost People
Of the Wandering Tribes,
Whose wise mothers
Once marked the sacred movement
Of My Stars,
Using Pillars of the Earth;
And with these nodes
They harnessed more still
Of my Power,
That no living being recalls;
The Nexus of the Great Grid
Still hums there,
Like the Breathing Stairway
Of the Universe-
Long ago forgotten,
Patiently waiting;
With bare feet like roots…
Still as the mountain,
And swift as a comet-
You will travel the Aether
Beyond the stones,
Who stand like abandoned Sentinels…
In the wise ancient hills.

When you trip
On a hole in this new Earth
You will find a burrow of hare,
And you must wait
For them to rise
From their home,
In the fullness of My Moon…
To learn the language
And furried Dreams
Of their precious Warren;
As you walk and walk
On the Grey Road
Shaded with towering trees
The color of blood,
You will find
A path that leads to a spider
the size of a horse,
Sitting like a Fabled Sage
Reading an aged book,
In a house made of silk…
And of this creature
Love must marry fear,
You must make a friend
And sup with him
And learn his clever stories;
Of every bird
And tree,
Every spotted fawn
And red-capped mushroom,
You must learn each Voice
And take it in
Like precious Air,
And let it beat within you…
With the organ in your chest.

My Beloved,
You must break–
And break again,
And your pieces must rejoice
In the chaos
Of their shattered fate,
Because you must believe…
This Path is My Will;
You must find comfort
In discovering that pain
Always fades,
You must humbly raise your lips
In prayer,
That you can still breathe
With your lungs,
That your mind still works
And absorbs new knowledge…
In your mind
You must be filled to overflowing
Like an Immortal Cup,
That you are aware of yourself
And you possess a Soul…
That you have touched the Divine.

From this day
You must live inside Rapture,
Like a flower
Blooming despite the cold,
And stand in awe
To the Noble Sun
When His Light finally comes
Once again,
Absorbing His warmth-
Praising your Goddess
With the petals of your arms
That you are you…
That you are Alive.
Your Soul must be pushed
To the edge of the Abyss,
And fall into Its Woe…
It must dwell in the pits of Darkness
To see the Light
That I have created,
And Its Celestial Memory
Must carry you in the places
Where It cannot abide…
And even in despair
You must channel Its gladness
With the Rowan Heart
Of your simple staff,
Letting Its power flow
As Its once proud tree…
Remembers budding leaves.

You, My Daughter,
My Beloved,
Must endure all of this
So that you know the shape
And feel
And taste
And sound
And bitter perfume
Of suffering,
So that you can take it
Into your soul
And know what Grace is;
So that you know
When you meet pain
On the road-
You can impart
The true child of this Grace,
And give of your Light
With the purest heart.
My Dear One,
I have blessed you
With a journey
That begins and ends
In the same place,
But it will take you
Far away
To the untraveled lands
Within your Sacred Self…

And when you find
That your no longer miss your eyes
Or the silks
That used to drape your curves,
Or the shoes
That used to protect your feet
Or the direction
That you knew you were walking…
You will have become
The Road Itself,
And this is Wise;
You will be in awe of the miracles
That are disguised in leaves,
You eyes will tear
In the Blessed Wind
When you discover
It has a Voice…
And One day you will know
The treasure found in one tiny pebble-
To recall in a moment
When you have no strength
And no hope-
The memory of the Magick
When you claimed it,
Within the cool, clear creek
That healed your dying, battered body…

And in every bend of the road
Where your eyes cannot see…
The fog will lift
Like a prayer to the Heavens,
And the Light that was absent
Will illuminate
The realm of kindness,
And the Bright Magick-
Which only those who speak
In the tongues of the
Sacred Earth
Can possess-
Will expand your fragmented Soul,
Taking the Moon
Into yourself,
Within your womb-
As the night sky
Is filled with stars.

For your faith
And your trials,
I shall gift you a Sylvan bow
Which has no equal,
Imparting moonlit power
To rule your tribe-
And thrive and grow,
Without the cloistered protection of men…
And to this, I shall bestow
A hallowed bond
With the Noble Horse,
So that your feet may rest-
And you will carry
The message of your Goddess
Over the lands of Greece
With the swiftness of a bird
Without wings,
Always connected
To My precious Earth
In the pounding hooves
Of your Familiars,
Who will become the symbol
Of your tribe,
And who,
Like a mother, to her daughter…
Knows your Wild Heart,
As she knows her own…

The First Amazon bowed low,
Falling to her knees…
As the lyrical voice
Left the air;
And it felt as if all Nature
Stopped–
Wishing to fill the void again
With the perfection
Of Its symphonic spell;
Her loose dark hair
Brushed the damp Earth
Beneath the Rowan tree,
And with damp eyes
She watched the Goddess
As She rose,
Saying
With purpose
And grit,
As if convincing herself-
Your Light will guide me,
I am Your right hand
And Your beating heart-
I will be true,
And Your Unending Grace
Will give me strength, Mother.

And the Goddess waived Her slender hand
Over the First Amazon…
And the breeze smiled
As it passed over Her fingers,
Glowing with the Light of Creation,
And conjuring a staff from the tree
Where they stood
She passed it into awestruck hands…
Adorning too, the Amazon’s form,
Once draped in diaphanous red silk-
With the cloth of a humble bard,
Hiding a beautiful face within a deep hood
Of weathered grey,
Like the boulders near the sea…
And as She nodded at her Daughter,
She faded into the Aether
Like the bright light of a distant Star
Eclipsed by the dawn…
Leaving the future Queen
To take her first steps
Alone-
On the sacred path to create her Tribe,
And to find the Hidden Truth…
Within.

Blessed Be,

)O(

Holly Emberhawk

I wrote this months ago…but it felt like today is the time to publish it. I have missed you all… My love to all of my Dear Ones.

The Temple of Artemis, is an original poem by Holly Emberhawk, the founder and poetess of Inkberry’s Quill: Lost Ink of a Bardic Amazon, inkberrysquill.com. All Copyrights Reserved, 2015. Please refer to the Copyright page on my sidebar for more information. ANY use or duplication of this work, in any form, without my permission, is a violation of my copyrights. Please contact me if you wish to share, publish, or use it in any way.

Featured Image, Wild Horse, by Katherine Lister, aka pskate1 of Deviant Art. All copyrights to this image belong to this artist, please click the embedded links within her name to visit her page on Deviant Art.