New Oshun Mask

OSHUN

 by Mary Kay Landon 

From the river Oshun deep in Nigeria

Whence came My name

I come to you today —

Clothed in burnished copper grace,

all done up with My cowrie shells and brass bracelets,

Sporting My fan, winking in My mirror.

You love Me, because you must —

Enraptured by My essence,

Snuggled in My tender-hearted embrace,

Permeated by My soft lust,

You can only want what I ask.

call on Me by name,

Oshun

Thoughts, Whispers, Words, Shouts

I hear, hold and answer to them all.

Oshun — Oshun — Oshun!

Call on Me by name

whenever women are  degraded,

whenever sweetness is despised

whenever kindness is shouted down,

whenever beauty lies broken.

Oshun — Oshun — Oshun!

Call on Me by name

when a child’s simple cry for a hair ribbon goes unanswered,

when a woman must give her body to sex without pleasure,

whenever the forces of greed once again

rape nature in the name of progress.

Oshun — Oshun — Oshun!

Call on Me by name

when the dry dust of habit and utility,

Threaten to blot out beauty and sensuality,

love and compassion, from the field of daily life.

Call on Me by name

And I will return

Sashaying in My orange skirts,

all done up with My cowrie shells and brass bracelets,

Sporting My fan, winking in My mirror.

To inspire and comfort you,

With My presence and touch —

Soft yes, but carrying a force

that can move mountains.

Ashay.  

Birth of Oshún by Karmella Haynes