Deep blue

Tucked away in my mind sits the memory of the sound of waves breaking against the rocks at the coast, a memory older than anything else, a longing for a home I will never return to.

I visit the edge where the sand meets the water often, if only I could return to you, deep in the seafloor and be alive in your currents again, for the kids of the ocean do not drown in its waters.

The sentence etched on my skin and my mind, told to many before me in reverence of who we are, of those who were before us.

And still, every time I find myself by you, bare feet in the sand, moon above me, you breathe new life into me, your calm inviting, your roars invigorating.

I dare to second guess myself before diving, I’ve grown accustomed to the shore but I still long for you as you are our mother and we are your children.

Your snake curling around your arm, your dance wild and mesmerizing, your powers more than we will ever come to understand, you show yourself as you are to few.

But when we need you there you are, fierce in storm, doing anything for your children, even if some have forgotten you. I will not.

I take your tales and try to breathe life into them the same way you do to me, like others before me, with the magic you left in our blood.

I speak your name proudly, as you have given me the right to do so.

Yemaya.