as the winding river is tracked over the crunch of gravel.
Glints of yellow through the trees, the light
glancing off of moss covered branches.
Vulture circles overhead,
soft smell of rot carries on wind's current.
The Eater of Death alights under leavings of gleaming dew.
The vision's long fingers stream through the mind as the trail meanders to the bank.
Bits of copper, beads, a comb;
remnants of singing joy by the rock.
Water swirls composing art just as the clouds while the Mother cries in the cave dressed in rags, her tears feed the fruiting bushes overhanging waters edge.
Lady of Copper reaches forward, the berries are sweetness.
Iba Osun sekese
Osan rere o
(Praise to the Goddess of Mystery
Mother of Abundance
We sing your praises
So be it)