RITUAL

 
Milia Annorum in Great Mother’s praise
A boiled and blenched white terry cloth laid out
Sharp folded creases awaiting moonlit rites

Priestess/supplicant you decline its caress
Rather to accept the grace of wash with me
Returning to the alter my wash with you

As leaving tide relents dry sand soon reveals
Yet sea’s perfume remains begging its return
I bow to pray in our washings drying scents

Our incens’es spice reminds our every act
I leave intact our ritual’s sacraments
Awash in morning orange at Luna’s gate

I will leave our sacred coverings to air
The rooms of our divinity and delights
‘Til you return and our nightly washing rites  


Author's Note: "milia annorum" is Latin for "thousands of years."