7 Potencias

1. Elegguá

How difficult to be a deity.

The burden of opening up the road

to the foolish, the headstrong, the fickle,

the hard work of playing tricks on lovers.

Elegguá must have lured me to this place

I saw him dance around the last corner

small as a child, clothed as a harlequin

in red and black, wielding a forked stick.

Spinning on one foot, he pulls me with an

invisible string, a marionette,

jiving, imitating something I may

yet feel, wearing beads that rattle around

my neck like bones; one red, all the rest white.

Warrior against the mark of my birth.

2. Oggún

Dark warrior, you’re the god I like most.

I slice my arms through the air of your dance

spinning with the fierce freedom of anger.

Lord of minerals and iron and tools,

keeper of the harsh secrets of mountains

and the wild beasts of wild emotions,

I love your hot-tempered porcupine ways.

Father of tragedy, dressed in green

and black, clearing the forest restlessly.

Oggún, you bring out the real man in me.

Your guttural name takes me close to earth.

I dance forward, a machete in hand,

a mad arrow drawing me so swiftly

towards the next big mistake of my life.

3. Changó

My next big mistake was to love you, prince.

Ruler of the sky, of storms, of lightning,

sex and strategy. Your two-headed axe

struck me as you spun, blur of red and white,

your feet beating a retreat on three drums --

iya, itótele, okónkolo.

I’m helpless, untrained against this whirlwind.

Stunned, a stranger to my own body.

The theater of your tempest is too much

for me. I blush, you clutch your crotch, point and

choose me from the crowd. A place deep in me

shudders and melts, follows you and leaves me

behind, calling out “wait –wait –what about

going home?” which will never happen again.

4. Oshún

Going home will never happen again.

I’m stuck in a gold river of honey,

my yellow dress swirling as I eddy.

You float, maniacally chattering.

Streaks of anger tarnish your laughter’s bell.

You fan yourself madly. Maybe I’m you.

Look at me in your brass mirror, sweetie,

I’m wearing peacock feathers, tiara,

white veil and many jittery bracelets.

I plan to steal your numerous husbands.

I dance endlessly to forget this sin.

I’ll become a furrow to be ploughed.

I’ll sit and knit at the river’s bottom.

My own womb will be full because of you.

5. Yemayá

My womb is full because of you, pura.

Never thought of myself as a mother,

yet I always knew she’d arrive someday.

Now my child swims in me, a golden fish.

I’m shipwrecked in this watery new place,

melons and casks of molasses floating

in the warm sea around me, unruffled

for now. I’m annoyed when all santeros

assume I’m on your path, the blue and white

of my eyes their clue to a pat answer.

I’m surely more than just a boring saint,

a madre to worship and dance around.

You’re more than an icon in a stiff gown.

You tore the veil from innocence to change.

6. Oya

She tore the veil from innocence to change

me. Revolution! I put on trousers

grow a beard, and go to war. Epa hey!

You do not want to pick a fight with me,

I’ve got gale-force winds backing me up.

I’ll sweep you away with a horsehair switch.

Help me unhaunt myself, underworld queen.

Wrap me in the maroon and purple of

your hurricanes and show me the passage

out of here. Blow open the cemetery

gate so I can see the whole path from life

to death and back again, riding a storm,

my destination somewhere in between.

Neither here nor there, always on my way.

7. Obatalá

Always neither here nor there, on my way.

I still don’t understand what I’m doing.

Ruler of the cold north and all white things,

flawed creator of deformed human beings --

you might be the god for me, gentle judge.

Mysterious, oldest of all, will you

take care of me? I’ll give you coconuts,

milk, diamonds, cotton, flour, yucca, silver.

I’ll weave you a length of white cloth and lace.

These seven necklaces slide so heavy

around my throat. Am I an imposter?

I just wanted to dance myself out of

the past, into forgiveness. You must know --

it’s difficult to be a deity.