It’s a rainy Sunday here in New York. Chillier than yesterday. Neither good nor bad. Just is. Sunday a day of reflection and worship for many Christians. I’m not a regular church goer. My attendance in a brick and mortar building is a rare occurrence. Gradually the Baptist Faith of my youth has morphed into an appreciation and Liberation from the confines, dogma and doctrine of the traditional church. All faiths both traditional and indigenous for me have become one. All are pieces of the original stone. Yet I feel the call of my Ancient Ancestral beliefs calling me home. I Long for the Zion of Africa.
Psalm 137:1-4
New King James Version (NKJV)
Longing for Zion in a Foreign Land
137 By the rivers of Babylon, There we sat down, yea, we wept When we remembered Zion. 2 We hung our harps Upon the willows in the midst of it. 3 For there those who carried us away captive asked of us a song, And those who plundered us requested mirth, Saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4 How shall we sing the Lord’s song In a foreign land?
Rivers of Babylon-The Melodians
For me I imbibe the magnificence of Creation more and more through Mother Nature herself. Even if I can’t be near a park or beach because of my heavy work schedule I see myself walking the beach early in the morning when there are only the seagulls flying overhead, the ebb and flow of waves lapping at sand. Or I’m at the park. Perhaps Central Park or Prospect Park. Touching the trees, heavy protruding boulders, taking off my shoes making that connection to land.
I crave Oneness with Gaia, The Goddess, Mother Nature. African and Native American prior to the Colonizer. Praises to Oshun!!
Any Green-space where Gaia has left her mark in millennium stones, rocks and boulders pushed surface up that speak of eons past.
One hand touches rocks and stones. Voices of Tribal past speak Wisdom into my Life. Feet Grounded within Earth, Sand and Seas.
All geological evolutionary eras merge as one.
I was there at the Jordan baptizing Jesus. My flowing locs once jet black now white with mystical waves. I shook my bountiful mane and the earth trembled. Oshun welcomes back her prodigal son.
Oshun pushed aside Neptune and gathered up her children drowned lost in Middle Passage. Watery graveyard. We search for each other. Shackled together. Far from the Motherland of our birth.
Brought on deck. Bound. Iron to Iron. Men. Women. Some pregnant. Children. Tossed like so much excess baggage from the good ship Amistad.
We cried out to the Goddess for Salvation. Swept away into the Abyss. Poseiden stepped on our necks and took our breath away. Only the Goddess of Our Royal Bloodline can redeem us. Our Orisha came and gathered our spirits into Her Bosom.
Meditate on Her. Meditate on Her.
I am She who was from the Beginning. I Birthed the Earth into Existence. All others who came after are just minor manifestations of true Grace. Manifestations of the Original Reigning Goddess.
She poured fragrant Libation upon our weary souls. She oiled the depths of our spirits. Deliverance was nigh. The New Sojourner Truth criss-crosses the Land gathering. Gathering. Sowing. Reaping. Transformation.
137 By the rivers of Babylon, There we sat down, yea, we wept When we remembered Zion. 2 We hung our harps Upon the willows in the midst of it. 3 For there those who carried us away captive asked of us a song, And those who plundered us requested mirth, Saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4 How shall we sing the Lord’s song In a foreign land?
So many ancestries run through my veins. Africa, Native American, Ireland course throughout my circulatory tributaries. All merging into one.
I take the Warm Spring healing waters from Gaia’s womb. Water. Rain. Storms. Floods. Tidal Waves. Tsunamis. Showers. Oceans. Seas. Lakes. Ponds. Water possesses the powers of creation and destruction. River and Mountain Goddess meet. Fresh moving waters provide life. Stagnant still waters harbor seeds of death. Tears of sorrow, sadness and grief. Tears of joy, happiness and relief.
We create man-made fountains in the city to satiate our thirsty souls.
We spend the first nine months of our lives in our Mother’s amniotic waters.
Our bodies are approximately composed of 70% water.
Health officials recommend drinking eight glasses of water a day to replenish what we lose through sweating, excretion and elimination.
Water in most faiths is a method of cleansing and renewal.
Jesus was baptized in the River Jordan. (Matthew 3:13)
Most Christians are baptized at some point in their lives.
In Buddhism one of the goals is to wash away the illusions and delusions of Ego.
Hindus after cremation often scatter their Loved ones ashes into the sacred River Ganges.
At the end of the song they call upon Oshun, West African Orisha of Love and the Sweet Waters from the World Goddess. The Orishas call to my ancestral soul beckoning me to the indigenous beliefs of the Mother Land. I hear their cries mixed with those of my Native American ancestors calling me to return. Return Home.
Misplaced. Lost but not forgotten. Every day they look for me. Divine Mother scours the land searching for her lost children. Crying because they are naught. Then once again she comes to the Island from whence the vessels filled with pale strangers cruelly kidnapped her young. Weeping. Wailing. Shrieking. Her gown is rent in two.
Taken
Then Divine Mother casts her gaze towards the wide waters. She hears the voices of her children calling her. Some from beneath the deep oceans. Others from strange lands.
She shall gather her children from distant shores and Ethiopia shall rise again.
There was a Gathering of Old Bones. Shall these dry bones live? Yes by Grace and Mercy.
Lost Tribes took in Lost Villages. Red and Black became one flesh. Pursued. Persecuted. Sometimes erased from this land only to resurface in another for in My Father’s House are many Mansions. Father God and Divine Mother call me forth to a plane of existence that the enemy can in no wise enter in.
Scented Sands. Gathered Aromas.
A Portly Golden Breeze scatters cosmic seeds into the oceans breath. Rescue my stolen children from alien Atlantic and Pacific waters. Yoruba and Jesus Dance together. The Goddess bestows her ritual Female powers. I am renewed. Orishas wash my soul.
Afroid Dreams of Salvation
We speak the language of old royal robes, the talking drums, painted faces, warrior chants…….
The Caramel, Sienna, Midnight Prodigal Daughter returns home. Indigo children reside on Astral planes, valleys, visions, 4th dimensional planets, solar systems, galaxies known only to the Enlightened Ancients.
The Misplaced Children of Africa have returned home. Lost no more. Egypt. Ethiopia. Ghana. Kenya. Nigeria. Mozambique. Togo. Mali. Namibia. Botswana. South Africa. All Nubian Kingdoms claim your Peoples from throughout the Diaspora. Baptize me in the Nile. Black Mother Moses I am Yours.
Thus says the LORD: “Keep your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for there is a reward for your work, declares the LORD, and they shall come back from the land of the enemy. Jeremiah 31:16
“A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.” Matthew 2:18
Espiritu en Fuego/A Fiery Spirit 