Sunday, April 8, 2007

Witches, Now and Forever

First off, I completely love my Humanities class this quarter. It's about witches and tracing their development throughout history, mainly focusing upon the European countries and America. But I remembered a little something that I did a long time ago and a picture that my friend, Tina, did, especially after class on Thursday about the Greek and Roman ideals about witches.


Hymn to Artemis

Awaken, Muse –

And speak

Of the long-suffering foolishness of a man,

Weak enough to fall prey to his desires.


Tell me, Muse,

The tale of fair-tressed Artemis,

Deadly huntress and daughter of favored Leto.

Born on the isle of Ortygia, hidden from the eyes

Of Hera, the queen of the immortal gods

And consort to lightening-wielding Zeus.

Twin of Apollo, god of the sun and giver of light.


Speak, Immortal One,

Of the lusting hunter Actaeon, who dared

To look upon virgin Artemis in all her glory.

Sister of far-shooter Phoebus Apollo, with

Shafts of gold filling her quiver and a bow,

Curved and supple, forged by Hephaestus,

Crippled patron of craftsmen. Reveling in the

Clear cool waters of Gargaphia, Artemis,

Goddess of the hunt and wild things, bathed.


Hunting, grandson of Cadmus, Actaeon,

Trained by the centaur Chiron, stopped.

Hearing the quiet laughter of children, the

Twinkling sounds of bells as water flows

Over orbs of purest glass, the mortal man

Quieted his hounds. Creeping closer, hidden

In the shadows of green leafy bushes, Actaeon

Watched, mesmerized. Waterfalls of light

Cascaded down around the goddess of the hunt,

Framing her supple body in a golden shower.

Nymphs splashed playfully in the shallows,

Companions to the shooter of stags. Naiades,

Daughters of Amnisus, twenty all in count,

Virgins in their prime, young and innocent.

Arethusa, Britomartis, Nephele, Maera, Rhanis,

Aura, Pheraea, Hyale and Callisto, most favored

Of all attendants to great Artemis, protectress

Of the innocent and bold of heart.


The crackle of leaves underfoot, the snap

Of a dry branch, stopped all revelry. Cautious

Looks and fearful glances roamed surrounding

Trees, searching for the source of the noise.

Sharp and piercing, the goddess’s gaze lit upon

A spot of color in the bushes. Blue and bright,

A contrast against the leafy green bowers.

Stringing her bow with nimble fingers, healer

And mistress of death, Artemis drew a shaft

Back, releasing the quarrel into the bushes.

A moment of silence, then the quick fluttering

Of wings, as a jay flew from a tattered nest.


Sighs of relief followed the maidens, pure in

Their hearts, all. Laughter ensued, ending

All worries. Yet unknown to all, Actaeon,

Mortal hunter and defiler of the beauty

Of virgin Artemis, watched with greater

Interest. Such precision of aim only spurred

His lust on further. Nothing could persuade

The student of Chiron to look away, not even

The threat of death, for those who looked upon

Artemis’ untouched body could never leave to

Tell of the tale. Immune to Aphrodite’s wiles,

At home in the wilderness, fair-haired huntress

Of the night, Artemis continued with a watchful

Eye. Every sound and movement caught

Her attention, wary and watchful.


Feeling the gaze of the goddess, Actaeon

Stepped out from the shelter of the bushes.

Panic followed his appearance in the

Sheltered glade, hidden from prying eyes.

Intruding upon the calm serenity of the

Maidens of the river and their mistress,

Twin to chariot-riding Apollo, the hunter

Approached with desire in his steps.

Flocking round, naiades all, hid their

Friend and companion from sight.

Anger roused the goddess to fury,

So waving all her handmaidens off,

Far-shooting Artemis beckoned the

Hunter close. Cyprian Aphrodite guided

His steps, bringing him toward the dread

Goddess of the hunt. All worries left,

For only the beauty of the goddess

Could placate the desires coursing

Through his veins, driving him to

Foolishness and the beckoning hands

Of Aidoneus, lord of many and commander

Of the underworld.


Masking her distaste, Artemis, pure in

Thought and form, wove a spell of

Entrapment for the misguided hunter.

Confusion and change followed Actaeon,

Believing the goddess to welcome

Him with open arms. A fierce smile

Upon her lips, the huntress washed her

Hands in the spring of Gargaphia. Clean

And untouched by the lustful thoughts

Of Actaeon, mortal hunter of beasts,

Artemis beckoned her companions close.


Puzzled and unsteady, Actaeon stepped

Nimbly to the water’s edge, leaning in

For a drink of clear, clean water. Short

Fur and full antlers met his eyes. Backing

Away in panic, he ran from the goddess of

Wild animals, fearing her wrath. Soon,

The baying of hounds followed on his path,

Scenting young flesh and salty blood.

Feeling eyes watch his flight of terror,

The stag, young and foolish, looked back.

Hounds of once human Actaeon chased

Their master through the trees, seeing only

What the virgin goddess of the hunt desired.

A faulty step, a misplaced stone, tripped

Unsteady Actaeon, leaving him prey to the

Jaws of his faithful hounds. Pleading, cajoling,

The grandson of Cadmus, kicked futilely, only

To fall back on the ground, victim to

His own foolish endeavors. Cheering on the hounds,

Artemis of the golden bow, watched in satisfaction

As the man who dared to look upon her

Splendid nakedness left the world

Of the living and slipped onto the raft for

Hades, flowing swiftly on the Styx and past

Three-headed Cerberus, guardian of unruly spirits

And the gates of the underworld.


Calling back the dogs with a whistle,

The daughter of blessed Leto, closed

Her eyes to the slaughter and turned

Her back to the mangled body of Actaeon.

Accompanied by her favored companions,

Artemis returned to the glade with

Animals following in her footsteps.


And so, I bow down before your beauty,

Deadly goddess of the hunt, virgin and

Protector of the innocent. Now, I turn

To another tale of love and life, ending

Your tale of change and praise.

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