(YORUBAN WIND WARRIOR GODDESS)
CANTO 6 of the Daemonian Cycle
27,759 days ago
I was an infant
Not liking the land of the living
Fretful until a story was
Whispered in my newborn ear
Calming me in my dreams
This is what the voice told me:
In that long-ago darkness
There was an Orisha* named Oya
Living in Yorubaland
She had a fiery spirit
Yet ruled the water and
Controlled the storms
Honest and true,
She protected the river
That nourished the people
Guarded the cemeteries
While soothing the
Unquiet spirits who
Often roamed, searching for
justice
One day, continued the Voice,
You will meet her and she will
Gift you with the ability to
Help yourself and others
But here it is
27,759 days and still
I have no special skill
To assist me
Let alone others
No Oya
No anyone similar
Although I searched endlessly
For someone to protect me
Because unlike Oya,
I was never a fierce warrior
And so I studied other cultures
A myriad of storm gods and
goddesses
Even saints and shapeshifters
But they were all the subject of
tales
Never the tale-teller
And that’s who I needed
The one who actually charmed the
storms
The one who could explain what I
must do
To keep myself, family and
friends safe too
You are a Vryama Farmeko
My Gran once said
Storm Charmer
And we both laughed
At the ridiculousness of the idea
Who am I and, once again,
How did I return to Daemonia?
One morning I received an unknown
text
Always deleted them
Could be a hacker
But almost a magical feeling
Compelled me to click into it
“Meet Me In The Swamp”
It said
“Walk 50 paces South
To the lightning-struck
Vulture tree
Lying on its side
And wait for me
Now”
Something about aging
Fear of the unknown better than
Fear of living in a cold and
lonely
Nursing Home
So I fearlessly walked around the
fence
Counting off 50 paces South
The dark swamp full of water
moccasins
Maybe even gators and scurrying
critters
But no, today, silent, dark
Until a spark appeared
And there she stood
On a turquoise flowering bush
Small as a Disney fairy
Yet mighty as a deity
I knew it was Oya
And although she had been
worshipped
For possibly thousands of years
She did not look a day over 10,957
days
While I, at 27,759 days, could be
her
Great Gran
“I did not forget the promise to
you
But there was never any danger
Changes occur and it is time
You are the Vryama Farmeko
All the natural elements I love
Primarily Wind and Water
Have been abducted and forced to
destroy
This beautiful Earth
Help me in this
For you are the one
Who can right the world”
All these hurricanes and tornados
Are merely a metaphor for the
Coming darkness, I thought
But I am much too old now
To struggle against the
Engulfing of humanity
The political end of times
The conspiracy of unburned
Knights Templar
And Nazis needing no “Neo” as a
description
Since in our time, our souls were
shattered
From their hellish decryption of
Signs, sigils, and a gorgeous
mythology
Meant to show us the way, the right
way
To walk the path of tolerance
How can I conquer
Armies of brainless zombies
Demons of devilish regions of the
inferno?
My aging mind raced with protests
to share
But Oya said, “Are you not Baba
Jaga?
You have been to Daemonia
Where your talent defeated the
Demons at the Earth’s Edge
Restoring all that is good”
But I was 14,600 days
Young compared to now
“I will give you tools
Like the Piedra de Rayo
And amulets for protection
Talismans for understanding
Do you still have your
Flying mortar and pestle?
And remember, you will have assistance
The Slavic deities Stribog controller
of Wind
Mokosh controller of all moisture
And my own Orishas* like the
warrior Obba Nani,
Yemaya, queen of the sea
And from Santeria, La Madama
Acting as the mediator between
you and
The Spirit World
Spreading love and peace and
comfort
For you are Baba Jaga
A song, a spell
A magic bell’s
Silent knell
Is all you need”
And I knew
I would do
Whatever my Lady Oya asked
For all she promised was always
true…
TO BE CONTINUED
*Deity
©2024 Clarissa Simmens
(ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Oya
