Bride of the Morning Star
 

The small party shivers its way
into the pre-dawn
past rivulets of ice
along ancient paths to the snow-bound
crest of the peak.
Only the sound of labored
breath breaks the silence.
In oxygen-starved heights
they race to beat the day
god to the beginning of the world..

To the girl-child all reverberates with a clarity
she has never known.
Ice refracts starlight; scents
of crimson flowers assail; vibrations
from an awakening earth assault. Variations
in temperature break the land
from a frozen cocoon
to release precious drops into streams
that deliver life.
At the rising of the sun
on this high altar the Prince
will take
his bride.
All that is left as she sinks
to her knees is to await
his coming.
She picks a blossom to adorn her hair--
vital red against shining black.

Anticipation of unknown pleasures moisten
unexplored territories as morning
signals
arrival of her mate.
She looks upward to greet him--
exposes a long line of neck.
Her groom rises--
the knife consecrates her union--
blood of the marriage bed sanctifies
waters for a living land.
 
 
 
 

Tribal Rituals

evoke the goddess
of lust
latent hormones
pulse to the resonant beat
of the bass
rhythmic movements
banish rational
thought
rhythms increase
bodies merge
separate
mating patterns weave
in an aura
of abandonment
new celebration of spring
ritual
under incandescent fires
celebrants melt
to darkened corners
to honor
the Mother
 
 
 

 

About the Author:

Marsha Rogers has been published by Parchment Papers, Halcyon, 90 Poets for the 90's, Warrior Poets, Remembrance, High Desert Review Vols I-II-III and was editor for High Desert Review Vol III.   You may visit her webpages here:   Rashi Ma  and   ShadowJewel .