Indigo Daydreams of Mending Our Cosmic Rift
May our water spirits protect and bond us
The stars are pale and distant,
fixed in indigo blue-black
fading in and out with each
passing cloud and dust fragment.
Staring up at them
is the same as staring
back into the past,
at ancient light from before when
parents used nursery rhymes
to scare children into hiding
beneath their sheets at bedtime;
from before when folklore
yielded to history;
from before, when our
water spirit Yemoja
was spoken into existence
from the Ogun riverbed
in Nigeria
to nourish Her children and
purify their souls of
loss and loneliness.
Perhaps a few of those
dimly twinkling stars are
— or were — someone else’s
vibrant, burning suns,
theoretically
nourishing life with its own
history and folklore;