Shangó

 

 

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At first our eyes are white with terror

and then we smile

for we know it is you.

When we wish on a falling star,

you are the one who answers our prayer.

King who never died,

whose spells burst like bombs on the landscape

and whose laughter cracks the walls,

be kind to us.

 

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Your head piled high with cumulonimbi,

we welcome your majesty as you approach,

your footfalls shaking the planet.

Storm clouds your ermine and your sable.

You strike with your scepter and we jump.

If any are sleeping, they leap from their bed.

If any are resting, they are charged and must move.

The air cracks in pieces as you crush it in your mortar.

The atoms regain their deafening voices.

In your thunder we forget how small we are

and remember how big we can be.

 

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Happy dancer to the drums' bounce and bellow and snap,

the food is so rich, and our skin shines with sweat.

Gold on your arms and your neck.

Your muscles stretch the costly robe.

We thank you for the feast,

o generous killer,

o magnanimous assassin.

All predicaments dissolve before your power

as electrons beam from your hands and your mouth.

You are the explosion that walks on two legs,

you are the roaring that has a face,

the ecstasy of noise and music and shouting.

 

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None of us can stand as tall as you;

please walk with us and guard us from evil.

None of us can speak and make rocks break like you;

please speak for us and through us so that we may triumph.

None of us can fight like you;

please let us see our enemies' backs as they run away.

None of us can have as much as you have,

enjoy it as you do,

conquer and subdue,

relish life and laugh so hard

that the trees split and smoke.

Red-hot smiling giant, be gentle with us.

We welcome you, your majesty.

 

BOOM

 

 

© 2000 Gregor Everitt