The Hunters Web

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Drawing down the Moon
she calls
I am drawn, as well
An abrupt choke on mother’s Milk.
drawn further
Towards Eclipse
I see her through fogged glass

No; not good enough
windows dislodged along with my anima
I inhale her night
I witness her, framed
by the web of a spider
Na’ashjeii Asdzaa’s embrace
and I exhale their lightness

Hunters Moon,
held within womb of Grandmother Spider
The Mother and the Crone;
Calling their Maiden towards her courage

ablaze in the darkness.
Fierce and kind.
I weave.



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