Just back from Hawaii.
Pilgrimage
The first gate opens
when you set foot
on this land.
You have entered
the ritual by arriving.
The first phase is spent
high up the mountain,
attuning to the land.
The second gate opens
when you descend
to the ocean.
The waters of the sacred bay,
rising and falling,
set the pace for your heart.
You ask permission
from the land and the sea.
You bow to the ancient
birthing place and
dolphin home.
The third gate opens
when you stand at the edge
of Pele’s home, the caldera
wide and steaming below
ohia and ohelo.
The arduous trek one mile
down the chunky lava path
leads you to the final gate.
Dense green jungle opens out
to expansive, bare caldera.
At your chosen spot,
you make your prayers and offerings.
You understand now
that the whole journey has
been the pilgrimage,
not just this culminating ritual.
Passing through all the gates
was necessary and more than
mere preparation.
You cannot know
if your offerings are
accepted and sufficient,
but you have fulfilled
your intention.
A vision comes:
you climb out of a
lava tube pool, greeting
the sun and the day,
the ocean and the forest,
the mountain and the sky.
You understand that
you are to carry this image
in your heart, no matter
what you face
on your return.
The ritual has been akin
to one the women of
ancient Greece enacted,
your personal Thesmophoria
in a different spirit-filled land,
a going down and coming up
in worship of the Mystery and
of the sister goddesses of
descent and ascent.
