Clean hands, quiet breath, a body kept in care, Boundaries drawn to guard the fragile and the fair. Where flow brings fear, the law brings room to heal, A season of retreat, a promise to be real.

Not shame but shelter, not exile but a way, A path to gentle washing, to welcome and to stay. Ritual of mercy, smoke of incense, sign of grace, restored within the circle, reclaimed in sacred space.

May every wound find tending, every weakness meet a friend, And may the God who marks the rules bring wholeness without end.