(Yay!  My first poem posted here  .)

Steady rhythm of drumbeats
fills gathering dusky twilight
as the sun bids farewell to the land.
Fiery fingers claw into growing darkness
as torches neatly line the straight stone pathway
leading to the eternal edge
of the Sacred Cenote.
The weight of past ghosts haunts every shadow,
their presence heavy on this ritual evening.

Dancing figures explode into the scene;
painted bodies and colorful masks
assault the black of night
as the crowd is hypnotized in both fear and awe.

She appears at the start of the road,
a maiden dressed in finest clothes,
materializing out of the gloom like a phantom,
or a dream.

Her legs shake.

She takes tentative steps,
lips trembling as she searches the sea of faces.
Brother Wind playfully grabs her dress as she walks,
stirring it,
fringes chasing each other around her ankles,
colorful shells and beads jingle softly
in a strangely joyful dirge.

The end of the way meets her too quickly.
She suddenly stands before the ledge,
and stares into the still pool of death below.
She holds up her arms, palms out,
entreating the priest for reprieve,
feet already poised to run away.

But destiny makes no exception
as the blow whistles out of open air.
All at once she is falling,
falling,
beginning her descent into history.

Hands unconsciously strain toward fading lights
as all her world becomes awash in a blanket of red.
Briefly buoyed in a dramatic splash,
her eyes momentarily clear
before forever's waters claim her body.
She sinks underneath the surface,
embalmed in a cold, wet grave.
Struggling against inevitability,
her efforts are useless in the coming storm.

She can hear them,
the hoofbeats of the Ancients;
faster,
frantic,
the pounding pulse reverberates in her head,
then slows and weakens as they reach her,
gently enfolding their awaiting arms,
drawing out her spirit,
and leaving behind only limp, lifeless limbs.

As the mighty Chac whisks her away,
the empty shell floats to the floor of bones below.
Skeletal remains grotesquely embrace
and welcome their newest Sister,
whose fate has led her
to share this final resting place.

~What is cherished most is what must be the hardest fought for.~

Sprayed across my heart and hers
danced butterflies in the wild.
This angel, this woman,
who loves me with the innocence of a child.

DeVante'

Kathleen (Kay)
"When red-haired girls scamper like roses over the rain-green grass, and the sun drips honey."
Laurie Lee

Very impressive first post!!
Can't wait to see more of your work!
     ~Hugs, Nancy Lee~

"A dream is a wish your heart makes..."

Thank you, everyone, for making me feel so welcome !  I've been enjoying my stay here so far, and I hope to be around for awhile  .  I appreciate all your comments and the fact that you all took the time to read my work.  I can already tell that I'm going to like it here  .  

Janet Marie - My inspiration for this piece came from a trip to Mexico.  We went and visited the ruins at Chichen Itza, and I am fascinated by the culture of the ancient Mayan civilization.

Once again, thanks to everyone.  I'll see you around  .

~What is cherished most is what must be the hardest fought for.~