Brighid Poetry Festival: The woman of seven stars goes hunting

Brighid Poetry Festival: The woman of seven stars goes hunting February 1, 2011

The 6th Annual Brighid Poetry Festival is an internet tradition to honor Brighid, Goddess of Smithcraft and Poetry.

It is that time of year again, when bloggers around the world post a favorite poem in honor of Brigid, the Irish goddess and patron saint of smithcraft, poetry, and healing. Brigid’s feast day is February 1st, so between now and then is the perfect time to publish a poem to celebrate.

Here at Pantheon we decided to join in:

The woman of seven stars goes hunting
by Sara Amis; originally published in Jabberwocky 3 by Prime Books in the US and in Datura: An Anthology of Esoteric Poesis by Scarlet Imprint in the UK.

Do you regret turning your ear to the dark,
you who were born the morning star?
Do you regret it, peacock woman?
Did you forget yourself in your descent?
Did the gold rub off your skin?
Did you consume your warrior’s heart?

Queen of heaven they called you, the woman of largest heart
Your heavy scented hair grows dark
and curling like vines across your skin
We look up at the falling star
Burning even in descent
And say yes, that is a woman.

All lights may be extinguished, even yours, star woman.
You surrounded emptiness with your heart,
and listening, began your descent
to the no return, the dusty dark.
You came down like a visiting star
Like a royal barge, a queen, perfume on your skin

I know you felt it on your naked skin
The disdain of that envious woman
For you, the morning and evening star.
Your pride, your arrogance, your willful heart
Like hers, the woman whose home is the dark
This is where you come to in your descent

You struggled to rise, in rage from your descent,
attacked her, and she removed your skin
Hung your corpse above her gate in the deep dark
All lights go out here, even yours, sky woman
This is what happens when your heart
eats dust and emptiness. You forget you were ever a star.

Two companions come to guide you—only flies, not a star;

Small and wily enough to follow your descent
without notice, wise enough to weep and turn the heart
of your dust gathering sister and beg from her your skin.
Let the water of life turn you back into a woman.
Let your woman’s feet bring you up from the dark.

A heart can be shaped and burning like a star,
It can open up the dark and plunge into descent
As I am a woman, this is my return, my holy skin.

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What Are Your Thoughts?leave a comment
  • Galina Krasskova

    Beautiful and immensely evocative.

  • Galina Krasskova

    Beautiful and immensely evocative.