The Feast

Mary lit the candles
and the table was prepared
for a feast of such temptations
whence seraph never dared.
A stampede of cloven feet
in the distance could be heard,
as the keeper of the vineyard
spoke without a word.
On the mountain of sinai
the priestess lit the sky,
the faun came to her table
and smiled with his eyes.
A song filled the ruins
and Eros made a toast,
bowing at the feet
of the lovely holy ghost.

“Let every rule be broken
in a land once chaste and dull,
may the temple doors be open,
may every cup be full.
With a feast of sweet libations
may the ritual begin.”
And the maenads made a ruckus
on the mountain once called sin.

Now a horn brightly sounded
as the feast of night commensed.
Melissa brought the honey
and the satyrs were incensed,
and the candles burned with fury
to dancing silhouettes,
and guiltless Aphrodite
raised her cup to Set.
“May every heart know pleasure,
may all your merries meet,
ravish all thy senses
with indulgences so sweet.
Let hearts burn with passion
on this night of fleeting care,
may we gather in the temple
where angels never dare.”
From somewhere in the distance
came laughter like a bell,
and the bearer of light
down through the ceiling fell.
And kissed the ring of Mary
his hand upon her thigh,
and presented her a scepter
with a whisper and a sigh.
And the drums began to rumble
and the night was filled with heat,
now all attending gathered
at Marys perfect feet.
As she lay back on the alter
a sirens song went wild,
she raised the golden scepter
and sprang from it a child.
The serpent gave a smile
as the nymphs kissed her scars,
for the child at her breast
was the son of living stars.
There was such jubilation,
such joyful pleasures shared,
for the feast was made complete this night
by an angel who had dared.