Dark Prophet Poetry Challenge Day 1

to Babalu Aye

why don't you send that root

the one that remembers

all of your grandmother's recipes

the rough hands of grandfather

and the names of plants and animals

we see you hunched

crutch in arm

pock marked lungs

struggling to stay dry

beneath dirty water bridges

and tent cities

and refugee camps

waiting for the apocalypse

to reveal your true nature

the stolen land

the burned bridges

the sad demons

just waiting for a touch

in their social isolation

waiting for a chance

to bake fresh bread

play dress up

build a garden

milk some goats

and have a brass band parade

but Babalu Aye

if you hear this call

root us in

tickle

open

roasted corn

fresh coconut

smoked fish

dry wine

an altar of stones

a field in woods

ashe