on the night the witch was born
her grandmother oiled her infant body
with poppy’s milk. as the concoction gently swirled
into the blood pouring from her mother’s womb,
her grandmother adorned her bare head
with flower garlands and carried her
into the woods. toes dug in damp Earth,
sacred chants glued to her lips,
the elderly witch drew in the Moon
and lifted the child to the Heavens.
the Divine Enchantress descended
before them, bracelets around Her ankles,
silkily playing her flute. She licked
Her index finger and placed it between
the new-born’s eyebrows, breathing
magick and abundance through her core.
with tender fingers,
the Enchantress weaved the web of her life,
as the maiden, the mother,
the matriarch and the crone
tangled themselves in her eyes.
the Moon, waxing and waning,
poured light on the crest of her head
and the Divine Enchantress sowed her heart
with golden thread.
*poem published in volume XI of Skye Magazine. to me, it holds two titles: ‘on the night the witch was born’ and ‘solaris’.
i adore this poem poem & the illustration that accompanies it! it opened my final year collection of my undergraduate degree – an occult lyrical project entiteld ‘Hymns ot the Divine Enchantress’, which was centred on illuminating the female esoteric experience. it is so moving to me to finally see it in print! thank you so much, Skye Magazine!
Skye’s beautiful illustration:
and the poem’s original moon format.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
amaryllis 