The Full Moon Preparing to Set into the Pacific OceanFlowers are embroidered in glittering beads
along the curves of my thighs.

You've heard my voice chime
deep silver along the horizon
as I rise
but you don't remember.

I have many names,
Crow and Sickle, Arctic, Wolf,
Barley and Blood, as I shift
in shade and shape.

I cup light in my palms for you to bathe,
but you must come to me unclothed,
stripped of all pretensions.
I care nothing for the weight you bear.

Rest, for you have not known rest.
Divest yourself of clutter
and concealment. You are
a manifestation of love,

and I am a crone born from fires of stone
and cooled to airless ice. I hold
the traction of tides and seasons.

Time upon time I have died and renewed.
If I wash you clean in the bowl
of my lap and chant my names,
might you remember me?

Copyright © 2009, Rae Pater

Image Credit: Alan Grinberg, some rights reserved

Rae Pater has been published online and in print. She has three children and a cat named Gus. She spends far too much time in front of a computer, and her bio needs some serious work. Rae has completed a B.A in English literature and has recently qualified as an adult literacy tutor.