The Cleansing Ritual

June 2-3, 1997 12:10PM finished

Crush the petals of the wilted rose

The tribute to ghosts of past seasons

Coming back to seduce you once again.

Run from the phantoms

Of morns that fade into darkness

Summers that disown in envy

The endless array of stars in the sky

Present when the cool breeze spread its wings

To carry kisses from your lover to you

As everything in the world stood still

Stood stock still for a moment in time.

Flee, too, the winters

Whose freezing embrace seeks warmth

For as you very well know by now

Warmth can only be found in never-never land

Where you and your youthful hopes dwelled

Where the heavens, like his eyes,

Are always the color of the sea

Where the brooks the two of you bathed in

Gurgle down winding pathways

Strewn with every flower in the universe

Blossoms of every hue, ever dewy

With the holy waters of the air

These brooks are as translucent as his heart

When it was the crowning glory

Of the altar that was your whole life.

Indeed, the intricacies of your deluded mind

Created for you Utopian vistas

That were your own Zion

Yet you knew your fantasies to be true

The mirage was as tangible

As the hands that held your soul captive

And yes, he even fantasized with you.

——————

You shake the memories from your hair

Today, you begin the rest of your existence

You look out the window, see the setting sun

You stand in front of the looking glass

As the eyes he called beautiful mist over

You hear the clock announce the reign of Night

Tears run down the lovely face

You close your eyes to pain

You think you see him

But it is only the illusion of an illusion

You undress, peeling off your clothes one by one

Your motions slow enough

Honoring the sacredness of the carnal ritual

Old as great-grandmother Time herself

You reminisce about evenings long gone

When you stood stark naked before him

Now your spirit breaks free from its confines

You go into the night, body ripe with passion

You raise your arms to the stars

Wanting to offer your sacrifice to your god

Needing to feel his hands, not the wind,

Caressing every inch of your body

Knowing you can bare your body to the sky

For all eternity and still not navigate

The labyrinth that is his heart.

You are not a saint

Your sacrilege has made you otherwise

And though the scars

Left by yesterday’s wounds on your person

Will never completely vanish from sight

You feel a smile on your face -

Ah, one forgets you have been loved, after all!

Henceforth, eternal grace remains.