NEXUS

By El Davíd

Mami sets nine glasses of cool sanctified water
on la mesa blanca
Crucifix rests majestically over one for the most high
The altar adorned with baby’s breath,
images of antepasados,
dulce, and cherished trinkets
that please her Eggun, draws them closer

Smudged with cigar and palo santo
she offers a cafecito, flowers, and candlelight

She is forging a bridge
between Orun and Ayé
Heaven and earth
She finds them there

I find them in between those spaces
I find them on the bridge between war and peace
I find them in the soil that soaked up their blood
when their differences met fatal persecution
I find them in the space between
Black and Brown culture
vortexes of Oyâ
melded into a once, present and future faith
I find them in bequeathed rage
from unforgiven sins
I find them in footprints
no longer seen, but undeniably present

I used to also find them in the clouds
in Mamí’s eyes
and then she joined them
Became a pillar on my mesa blanca

Now, I also find them in the eyes
of my children
where endless bridges
are forever constructed
for future generations
to meet their ancestors on

Never to be cut off
from the skies
they walk on