I Am a Daughter of Yemaya

I am a daughter of Yemaya. As such, everything begins and ends for me in the ocean; just like life itself-- from the ocean we emanated in our earliest beginnings, and, in the end, the ocean will probably swallow us back up when global warming has melted the polar caps sufficiently. Of course, I would like to be an optimist (actually, I AM an optimist) and, like Al Gore, say that we still have enough time to turn it all around. I think we do have time to turn it around, I am just enough of a pragmatist to suspect that we won't. It is not in human nature to look that much ahead and actually take the needed actions; we tend to wait until the knife is at our throats, it's 4 a.m. and the paper is due at 9 a.m. And in the case of our Mothers, Mother Earth, Mother Ocean, and The Mothers in general (ahh, have I come to Them so soon? I had meant to wait for another day, and so I shall try) by the time the knife is at your throat, that is, by the time the blood is already running, it is already too late. No more do-overs. No last minute pleading or bargaining. We will have made the last great Ebo [sacrifice], and it will be ourselves. But before we offer ourselves up on the Altar of the Gods, I believe we still have yet a few minutes left on this planet, and it is these precious moments with which I do and shall concern myself in these writings. I am fascinated with what is, what has yet to be, and most especially, with what has always been. With the temporal and the eternal. I intend to be here for awhile, if I am permitted, and I have some things to say, to do, to accomplish. And when the ocean rises up to my front doorstep (I have dreampt of this most joyfully on more than one occasion, you may not regard it with the same glee), I shall, with as much faith and grace as I can muster, let go, leap in, and see what and who meets me on the other side.