By Anna McKerrow
Come to her when the moon is full;
Raise hands higher, chant undine lore,
Toes in wet sand grip the sea floor.
Salt spray leaves diamonds in its place,
Waves mask your land legs
and the sea wears her pretty face
as she caresses the rocks with her long loving fingers;
Over mysteries her depth lingers,
masking somnolent worlds.
Quiet now the songs at the sucking mouths of caves;
Lost melodies roll under the waves.
Lighthouse eyes at the shore flicker
with an intoxicated, landlocked call:
The roiling, bitter, black and boundless sea
Stella Maris, Isis, Astarte; one and all,
Walk over the waves, answer, appear!
Lady of the velvet, blue-black tides:
The jewel of the full moon is here.
Count the days back to the dawn of time -
Invoke her name, voices carry behind the veil,
When all is still as the sterile lake and
the white womb in the dark before the light came;
Lady of death in life and life in death,
We implore you, speak your Holy name!
Thousand-jewelled mistress of the stars:
On moon-bright tides lunar light shines
soft on the circle of flames.