Slim-ankled Artemis, free-footed, wild-haired girl,
with steps swift and silent you run through the wood,
your bow at the ready, your shafts sharp and deadly.
Far-shooting Artemis, keen of eye and strong of arm,
your aim ever true, you take your prey, goddess,
with a single strike. Artemis, I pray to you
as I begin my hunt–may my eyes be clear,
may my hand be steady, may the shots I fire
reach my target and no other, may any kill be quick.
I am grateful, goddess, for the meat on my table.
I am grateful, goddess, for the time I spend
in the cold, in the wood, hearing the silence;
I am grateful, goddess, for the time I spend
in your world. Grant that I take on this work
with honest intent, grant that I feel the weight
of what I do, grant that I honor the lives
that feed me. Mistress of the hunt, I pray to you.