Full Moon Sacrament

the air hums, lying in wait. bare
soles meet dirt and twigs, beating the earth
in a deep ancestral lullaby
a rhythm untouched by any haste.

Falling from the sky and flowing in
its course shaping and scoring the earth.
she steps in without need of a priest
and sinks herself into Holy River.

She surfaces- once-and submerges
again. She rises, fists full of mud.
Precious earth, in a smooth motion

of absolution, makes herself
a truer face; raw, feral, and-