Shh… (she whispered)
With a lick of her indigo lips and a slight swivel of hip…she blessed me.
With her pinkie finger she anointed my forehead with golden honey.
With her whole hands she scooped Shea butter from a yellow calabash and oiled my body from a small jar,
then she covered my shiny skin with cinnamon dust
and dabbled cherry juice into my navel and goats milk behind my ears
She took a honeysuckle vine and braided it into my hair and laced cowery shells around my waist.
She kissed my feet and painted them with vanilla syrup
Never speaking, never uttering, she pointed to the ground which showed a peacock feathered path
that I was to follow..
Naked and alone, scented and damp, I walked along the path, passing through trees, and sticky
pines, walking up rock and through muddy ditches. Stumbling and sometimes falling, but steady on the path that she laid just me.
With no sounds, no rustling of leaves, no birds flying, just complete silence, and me.
I walked, and walked, hours on top of hours, naked and sweaty, sticky and tired, scratched and bruised;…. I walked…
like that same whisper, she appeared, she smiled, and put her arms around me
she gave me her shoulder to lay my head, and held me close to her as we walked…
we walked over turtle shells, skulls, scales, dirt, and bone.
We walked and walked until we reached a clearing….
“The river” my mind echoes..
She rushes in, and pulls me along, tugging me into the water,
tired and hurt, I hesitate…
She beckons and I soon follow
Gently she pulled, deeper, and deeper, my legs sink
My toes grasping the bottom of the water Steadly she pulls me. Descending deeper and deeper
immersing into darkness..
Stretching my neck to keep my head above the water, struggling to stay afloat, my arms spinning and flailing;
hopelessly it covers me.
She comes behind me, and pulls me backward, I fall into the water, underneath I stretch, and whirl,
my thighs hit the river bottom, my heals scrape the dirt, in anguish and desperation
I try to pull myself up, with no avail, I fall deeper. I try again, and I still fall deeper.
Afraid, I seek her, I feel for her, I cry out for her, I scream a silent wail….then, through blue, I see her, smiling.
I reach, she takes my hand and lifts me. She pulls me high.
Now, facing me, she kisses me, and washes my eyes, She holds my head close to hers,
then blows wind into my mouth, with her purple-blue hands holding my cheeks, she squeezes and blows; rushing
cool air into my lungs. My chest rises and falls, and she still blows until I am calm.
Gently she grips my shoulders and pushes me again into the water, but this time she is holding
me, she soon lifts me out of the water and pulls me close to her; once again.
With necessary ease she embraces and clutches me, lovingly she takes my hand and leads me out of the river.
As if I were fragile she helps me to sit, while seated she dries me with banana leaves and sheeps wool
With blue-blackened fingertips, she traces my wounds, and feeds warm air on them. Gently she sings. She rocks and holds me dear to her breast. Calm kisses and tear-filled nectar drape my face. I soon drift to sleep.
Like the breeze that flutters a butterfly’s wings, she vanished just as swift as the whisper that brought her.