Forgotten Holst

by Mathilde Jansen-Toft

I am Diana, moonstrider, goddess of the Hunt;
The closest celestial body to Earth.
I have gone by many names, Selene, Artemis, Chang’e…
Wrapped in my triste grey cloak I dance to the sides of the main procession
Sweeping my chariot in a lentando diminuendo to the dewy grass
where I sleep forgotten in the woods.

Goddess of wisdom and warfare, Minerva is my name.
An asteroid, I wait in silenzio for greater recognition –
a dwarf planet is all I ask.
My metal helm will shield me for now as my volti subito orbit twists around the sun
Tracking Mars, the bringer of war.
Waiting for my chance to rise in a celestial crescendo.

Do not mistake me for wanting a planet. As Vesta, hearth-keeper,
it is my duty to place others in comfort.
My plea is for Pluto, no longer recognised; silent in the abyss of the heavens
Though sometimes I watch the Earth’s rotations in confusion
Why not name such a sheltering planet after a goddess whose duty is shelter?
I suppose all of us must fade away a niente in the end.