Communicants
by Ralph La Rosa
At dawn they bow and sway, then stretch ecstatically
to kiss the sky and soil in daily dithyramb
and strophic dance, approaching closer to their god,
who waits to hear himself in those ordained to sing
the sounds they have absorbed from midday bees and birds
and soughing breeze at sunset, by spells becoming one
with him—till darkness falls and silences their songs.
