The leaves rustle and bristle in the howl of the breeze
the husky voice of Oya caressing me in the full darkness of night
no one is really watching me and no one is around
her windy aura surrounds and fills me
thundering and sifting through my aura of guilt
She promises me many of my secret desires
including that which I dare not name
She twirls thought the air and disappears
I am alone in the rapture
alone in myself to claim what I know to be mine
and mine I keep to myself
He sweet breath is till with me
brushing through me up my skirts
as I suddenly become tipsy
and like a Sibyl I now know the ahead
but the moment I hold now twists from my reach
I try grasping at the slippery handles to remember.
I remember you, the child of Windy Oya, your eyes always cast upward
your arms reaching for her naector in expectation
your body in rhythm with Hers
Ah, but Oya never leaves her child to twist alone
and she dances with you, teaching you her steps forward so that you remember
to not forget how to change
change like Mother Wind!
rush forward now, rush back!
spin like a hurricane, your arms outstretched beyond
hurling yourself from the cliff
knowing the Mother will carry you into moist valleys
caressing your soft brown locks as she steps wide
through blood red clay and evergreen leaves towards the sea
rocking you still when you cry our in pain
She only asks that you reach out to her
her husky voice rumbling in your ears in gusts and gales
her bright as night eyes warming you when you shiver alone
She knows when your heart quickens–
now spin and change as you will!
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