A gentle breeze blows in from the South.
Summer passes warm on the island.
The sea swells as the full moon rises,
a high tide for Midsummer's eve.
The people gather
The time to give thanks
The time of sacrifice
The oracle,
daughter of the moon,
sister of the sea,
chooses the Tanis.
She crowns him with fragrant eucalyptus.
With palm scepter in hand, he will lead the young king to the fire.
The singing begins.
The praise and prayers rise,
Light and sound blur
as the barrier between worlds fades.
Spirits dance round with the people.
The young king holds forth his scepter;
an offering.
The flames consume, death that begets life,
The wind blows on,
as the sea rises
washing clean the beach.
-text by guest writer S.W.C.
2 comments:
Real red heads!
Great lines S.W.C. and good job on the real red heads. I miss you.
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