3 March 2021
Yesterday I said that Yemaya had appeared in my work. I know her by many signs, but it took until this afternoon to make the most obvious connection. Someone I know died of drowning nearby, and one of her names was very similar. I am still feeling minor aftershocks from my friend’s passing. Aye, it’s almost Spring Equinox to the daylight world, but it’s still Day of the Dead in here.
What ever are the Lovers up to today? She’s feeling a little under the too-bright weather:
3 March 2021
3
He’ll Know Why
She woke up alone in the bed where she’d lain
in the hours before midnight at which time she’d died
now she was only a wraith and a stain
that would fade if it went all unread so good-bye
To the mare of the mattress and mother of pain
how often your patience rewarded my tears
she’s gone to the water she’s leaving no stain
I’m following after I have all these years
She woke up alone with a ray on her face
that was softly resplendent and carried her far
tell me your name at the height of your grace
as you shine in the night like the high silver star
Crossing over and soon to be drowned in the sea
like the sleeper whose dreams were too deep as they lay
in the cradle that rocked them to much stranger sleep
till a whisper came over them overboard way
Breathe in and in till the faery world shines
like a bright silver beacon she’s sent out to play
on the eyelids and lashes of one who so pined
he remembered each whispering word she would say
In the hours after midnight her dead body rose
to the urgent desire of the searchlight he made
of his own mortal body no burden no clothes
no skin and no skeleton comes forth arrayed
In the waves of the ocean her spirit has bathed
with inherent high frequency midnightly stayed
reminders of starlight his eyes will recall
she’s awake in the night where the strange love is made
Mother and mattress of childbed and pain
she’s always a girl who cries out loud and plain
there once was a man with a once-over eye
if he finds her he’ll know she’s still dying of stain
Rain Harp 