Vesta
She, within whom dwells The Flame
And is too, The Flame-
Marrying the earthly to the heavens
Vesta is temple, home, hearth,
Self-tended,
The self-mother of the child
Unmothered.
Fire fed, she who feeds,
Through ceremony of ensouling recipes
Passed from hearth to heart
From unison voices resounding
Through kitchen floors Into naked feet.
Oh Veiled One, who is removed yet
Loves deepest, burns constantly, And so is hidden-
Not for modesty, but to save thee
The striking dumb in awe.
Virgin, perhaps- But Immaculate Lily…
Pure in transmission, unmistakeable,
Unshakeable in her devotion
To embodied union.
She is beast tamer, un-trespassed;
Pregnant only with holy nectar,
Vulva fluent in the speak of Cosmos.
Vesta listens for truth in the belly’s depth
from which she will tend your hunger, your madness,
your despair.
Vessel of endurance
Like her fine fur-eared friend,
She is the lodestone
Crafted of lightning,
Your compass
On a dark journey Home.
– Arianne Sheikh.