The Babalawo

Quietly sitting in front of a small fire

A lone medicine man begins a ceremonial ritual.

He rubs sacred ash over his face

painting his face into a supernatural mask

that he will use to bring himself into the spirit world

in the most ancient way.

He reaches into a lion skin pouch decorated with cowrie shells

bringing out a hand full of herbs and roots.

Which he offers to the first source and center

and from his heart/mind/soul

he turns his eyes upwards and speaks to the heavens.

Using a language taught to him

A language carried through the elements of time and matter

by the many spirits joining him by the fire

who are his ancestors.

He holds the herbs and roots in the center of his palm

looking modestly into the flames of the burning fire

Iba se Ori ewe

(I pay homage to the spirit of the leaves and roots)

he says before slowly blowing them into the blazing fire

using the old language of his people

words that the Orishas know

Iba se Egun

(I pay homage to the spirits of my ancestors)

A-way mo dew-pa-we as-shay

with words pouring from his heart

he asks the spirit of the radiating fire to be a portal

for his eyes to see into for guidance

in finding a cure for healing his people

so that they will live a healthy and full life

and that their hearts/souls/minds will be filled

with the knowledge/wisdom/understanding of worship and truth.

He has spoken words to the spirit of the bright fire

words that the spirit of the burning inferno knows

for such words are of a language

that has been used since the Empire of King Tutankhamen

in such sacred rituals.

Words that the indigenous world recognizes

words of life that come from no book

words that allow shamans to invoke those unseen by the average man

this the lone medicine man knows with certainty

such are the ways of his forefathers and foremothers

and as the smoke transcends upwards

carrying the medicine and words

beyond the realms of the earth into the hands

of those who are looking down into the planet

waiting to become more active in life.

He is given a nod of approval

by the many spirits joining him by the fire

who are his ancestors.

To Apetebi

When the last sparkling ray

Of the sun cease to exist

And the last droplet of water

Quenches our dying thirst

I will remain holding

You comfortably in my arms

Flowing with the motions

Of our timeless rapture

From the top of my mountain

To the valley of bones below

In the web of our silence

In the midst of the eternal

shadows of what is called night

you will constantly hear

the ecstatic colors of my voice

proclaiming the cadence

of your fruitful breathe

imbues my world with charm

your dark lavender spirit

fills the chambers of my soul

with a music and laughter

that has stained my heart

with the joy of having you

affectionately in my arms.

For in holding you

I’ve found something

That death could never

Conquer or attain

In the stillness of darkness

Where our love shines

so bright and beautifully

shimmering from the celestial

peeping through a vitality

That is the workings of Immortals

Who rain meat for our pots

Grow bread for our table

pour water from the dry

Stone of the desert at their command

Powerfully transforming

What sustains them into us

Flooding our sacred lives

With a lamp the world blows upon                                                            

But can never put out

A flame that sits upon the horizon

Like the afternoon sun

In the zenith of twilight

Showing us the way into bliss

As our spiritual fire burns

With an extraterrestrial passion

That is so aquiline in essence

It proves without a doubt

This is the strength of love

alive and acting like nature itself.