I Give You Flowers

In white, the sun blazing
Opaque waves
perfectly still at the horizon,
but crashing along pink glistening shores
that reflect upward in sky before blue.

Yemanjá, I give you flowers.
I seek the bravery to manifest so many things
which lie at the core of me.
My belief is unsure but I surrender.
I know I can not do this alone.
I am afraid; I have been frozen.
Please, Mother of oceans and rivers,
strengthen me against the tide.

Yemanjá, I bring you honey
dripping on soft sands beside my feet.
This sweetness will be washed away,
but help me know that it will come back again,
like the horizon.
The ocean blurs dark into sheets and clouds
of red, purple, copper and gold,
saturating everything.
As water, there is no place I can go
where you are not.
Help me remember, Mother.

In white, along a silver shore,
there is no ocean or sky - no more.
Looking for what I thought I knew
into a dark magnetic mystery
where a God might exist.
Reminded of what was
only by the rising cresting foam
and the unfamiliar stars.
Mother, help me to be still in this darkness.
Help me to feel the sand through my toes.
Help my eyes adjust to recognize Orion.
Help me to hear, in your element,
the inevitability of renewal,
in my own heartbeat.

Mother Yemanjá, I'm singing to you.
Thank you for the blessings of a new year.