To Toast a Waning Moon

Crossing the desert
Stricken soul-quick
By the radiant ecstasy
Of the place,
I worshipped the Earth
With the tips of my fingers,
And the softness of my breast and Hers,
And the drumming of the cloud-song
Against my ears and eyes,
And my hair enraged
Against the caressing wind.

I yield my body
In voiceless passion
Transfixed and restless
Upon the altar
Awaiting the darkness
And the appointed blade.

In crushing silence,
In the solitude
Of Nowhere.
Tears filling the goblet
And the goblet shared
With you.