Eight beautiful women walked down the beach
Dressed mostly in white,
The Caribbean breezes brushed the hair from our faces.
Some with burning incense were making figure eights in the air
Others chiming bells and cymbals
And me with a little metal Himalayan bowl making sweet sounds
We walked on the hard sand in the light surf
Silently chanting our personal mantras
Until we stopped, nestled into the sand and watched the sky
Shyly, she showed her light behind a cloud
And a little more boldly she began to emerge
In silence, we watched her show
Until finally, in her full splendor
The golden july moon shone upon us.
In silence, we absorbed her blessings.
And then she began to throw golden buttery kisses to me.
I thrilled in the ecstasy of this holy moment and thought of you
And I asked her to throw you a few golden buttery kisses too.
Did you get them?
A poem from Sonam Donnala
Copyright July 2013. Donna Marie Carey. All rights reserved.