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High upon a hill above the town,
They gaze at early evening’s hazy glow.
The rumbling drums begin to pulse and sound,
A rhythm born in sultry fires below.
It pulses from the earth’s dark secret heart,
It undulates and reaches toward the sun.
And lovers who once found themselves apart,
Are joined with kiss, entwine and become one.
Their dance so pagan-drunk on this White Night,
Engorged with essence from their lust distilled.
Like Earth and Sun these lovers bathe in light,
And on that hill their dreaming is fulfilled.
The season’s heat ignites a roiling flame,
And in its burning, cleanses, lovers pain.
