LoveDance: Awakening the Divine Daughter. Deborah Maragopoulos FNP
Hastily, I stand, but he catches the hem of my sadin, halting my step.
“What?” I cry, frustrated by the delay.
“Perhaps we might…” Teoma murmurs through a half-considered smile, “Sorry, go watch over him.”
Partially obscured by weeping pepper tree branches, Yeshua rests in meditation. Carefully, I sit beside him, wishing he realized what I have always known. We are destined to be together.
“I have always loved you, Mary.”
A sob catches in my throat. Singing softly in the breeze, the lime-green leaves hover about us like a bridal veil. So long I have wanted to know his feelings, but now I feel strange. His lean brown hand cups my head, pouring icy river water down my back. I shiver as sweat beads on his upper lip, glistening on the fine down that will someday be a mustache. His breath smells sickly sweet, perhaps he speaks in delirium.
Finished with the chores, the boys recline about the pepper grove hungrily enjoying their reward. Yeshua rises at Teoma’s approach and takes the water skin. We silently wash our hands before sharing the meat. Yeshua’s hands tremble as he gives thanks. Teoma casts a worried glance my way.
“Yesh, please eat,” I beg.
Wavering on his feet, Yeshua falls into my lap, out cold.
Gray-green olive leaves rustle a warning as we return through the shadowed village. An empty courtyard greets us. Releasing Teoma’s steady grip, Yeshua sinks wearily upon some cushions just as his mother rushes in.
“Ima,” Yeshua implores, “please allow Mary to stay.”
Tears trailing through the dust on my face, I turn toward the doorway where Teoma stands prepared to escort me home.
“Mary, come join us. It is time.”
I take Miriam’s hand. Unconcerned by my tattered appearance, she leads me to a simple stone kiyyor and kneels to wash my feet and hands like a servant. We rise together and through a semi-sheer veil, enter an inner sanctum. Smooth basalt walls cradle burnished copper lamps flickering upon two intersecting triangles inlaid into the marble.
A sweet melody courses through me, but Miriam seems unaware. In fluid motion, I abandon myself to the swirling energy. The altar beckons, yet not until the music fades away and the hayye settles into a faint buzzing do I cease dancing. I kneel at the altar, my palms and forehead pressing gently against the cool stone, envisioning a star encased in a rose upon it.
Above the frantic beat of my heart, I feel someone enter the sanctum. Turning full circle, I see that Miriam has gone and in her place is… Yeshua.
Faintly self-conscious, I rise to my feet. Never before have we been alone in a room together. This room so sensuous, how might I control my passion? For heaven knows, I am desirous of his company.
Yeshua has not moved from the doorway, nor I from the altar, yet fate tightens invisible cords that bind our hearts. Where is Miriam? As I fret, she appears behind him.
“She is intuned to the energies, my son.” A sense of peace blankets me as she drapes a pale blue hooded mantle over my shoulders.
“Ima, may we have a moment alone?” Yeshua looks intently into her eyes. In spite of his charisma, Miriam shakes her head and draws me closer into her bosom.
The following morning, Yeshua and I sit before his parents in a study filled with scrolls, ancient and new. Without ceremony, his father begins. “It is tradition to announce the betrothal of a Davidic prince in Tammuz. After the winter solstice, the royal marriage will be consummated…”
Wedding! Looking at my expression, Joseph speaks more slowly, “… so the child conceived will be born in the month of kings.”
Feeling faint, I murmur, “I don’t understand.” Yeshua’s face darkens as Joseph clears his throat.
“You were betrothed to my son when you were but three.”
Twelve years and I have not known? My mother must have died a thousand deaths when my father accepted the son of a craftsman. Joseph supports his large family very well, but…All eyes study my reaction, I swallow thickly, “Yeshua is my heart’s desire, but I am shocked that my Abba would give me to him.”
Miriam and Joseph nod, well aware of the breach of tradition. Tzadokim never marry Chaverim!
Leaning across the table, Miriam reaches for my hand. “Dear one, your father shred my husband’s vision of your marriage to our son,” she gives Joseph a sidelong glance. “but the elders asked Yeshua to fulfill dynastic law.”
“What does that mean?” I look at my espoused.
“Nothing for you to worry about. We are to be married on the spring equinox. The Zadok’s will have to be satisfied, for this is divine timing.” Before Yeshua can speak further, Joseph raises his hand.
“Please, son, go talk this over.”
Yeshua leads me down the hall to a room off the garden. Wine red, forest green, midnight blue—rich sensual colors grace the cushions and drapery. The smell of warm bread causes my stomach to quake, but Yeshua ignores the beautiful meal laid out for us on the low table.
“It is not a fast day.”
Looking intently at me, he smiles. “Fasting curbs my desires.”
“But don’t you hunger?”
He shakes his head, tracing my mouth with the tip of his finger. “Not for food.”
Deep brown eyes spiraled in gold draw me into infinity. I swallow and drop my gaze to his mouth. His lips greet mine tentatively, until I open to receive him, then his kiss becomes sweetly urgent. I am melting into him to become hot liquid spilling on the cool tile floor.
“Yeshua,” drawing away, I ask breathlessly, “when did you know about us?”
“Before I left for Britannia.” What! That was nearly three years ago. He holds me against his chest, stroking my tangled curls. “I should have told you sooner.” Trembling with unspent passion, I release a shuddering cry. “I promise that I will not cause you any more suffering.”
In the portal of his eyes, the truth is revealed. “In loving you, I fear I shall experience much more suffering.”
A single tear slides down his tan cheek and splashes onto mine, sealing our fate.
The odor of sandalwood permeates my nostrils from the oil massaged onto my skin. All morning I have been tended by the women, my body soaked in a jasmine bath, my hair rinsed in lavender and lemon. Silk sways tantalizingly against my smooth legs as I wander down the hall. My mother would be appalled to see me in this revealing Grecian sadin and what has been revealed to me in the chamam, she can never know.
I miss Yeshua. Three weeks ago Joseph took him into the wilderness to prepare for our coming wedding. The house feels so empty. I enter the inner sanctum through a thick black drape embroidered with the constellations and a full moon. In opposition to the sun’s path, I dance with the sensuous hayye, filling thirteen oil lamps before pouring eight drops of precious oil upon lambskins arranged in the four directions. The star within a rose glows hotly beneath me as I recline on the altar. The one candle flickers, but paying no mind, I trace spirals upon my skin, noticing that my violet hue is glistening with Yeshua’s silver.
Suddenly, there seems a bit less air in the room. Holding my breath, I sit up to peer into the dark. The circle of moonlight entertains a familiar shadow…Yeshua!
Ecstatic, I cover his face with kisses. “So, Mary,” he whispers into my soft curls, “why are you here?” Looking into his eyes, I see the mirror of my love.
“Your Ima asked me to prepare this room for a special ceremony. The swirling hayye came so I danced and then rested here to watch the moon rise. Would you like to join me, the sky is beautiful tonight.”