The Wooing of Amaterasu


The crowd came

as they always

did in the darkest

hours before

the Sun commanded

the scope and plane,

shuffling into the

rows of hewn stone

benches,

as flaming fingernails

gripped the skirts

of the world

seeking to make

everything naked

the roars broke

out,

Man, Woman, Child

all standing

and screaming in

shared defiance or

conquest or joy

but each bellowing,

meeting the bright, soft

light with guttural

acquiesce and

passersby could

easily mistake

whether the light

was needed

or if it constantly

sought such applause,

explaining its ritualistic

comings and goings,

as the Sun fully exposed

its Dandelion belly,

the Tribe broke to its

daily tasks and duties.

Starting another happy day.

#340