I am Sequinta,
High Priestess of the Souls of Dreams,
Guardian of the Keys of Light.
Only my touch can deliver the secrets
hidden in the subterranean realm of lost memories.
Only my gentle whispers uncover the elusive truth
crystallised in the salty tears
of ancestral daydreams.
My presence wanders freely
in all the awakened worlds
of the tribes people of Namuh.
Namuh floats on the Sea of Possibility,
where those with open hearts
see my beauty flowing as one;
those with sealed minds
walk a barren road alone
and glimpses of me become a thorny longing.
My lover, Erametin, lies beside me
when Time averts his watchful eyes
and the in between becomes our playground
where dusky thoughts are passion filled
and dawn eyes shimmer a new dance.
He is the Warrior of Darkness,
Keeper of the Singing Blade.
Only through his eyes
the Paths of Enlightenment lead to me,
forged through the Mountains of Sleep
that lay heavily in the Valleys of Mystery.
Only his mournful songs
resonate and weave
through the denials of heavy hearts.
We flow in the sap of trees,
light up the celestial grandeur
when a seeker’s gaze looks beyond mortal resignation.
We swim in tidal musings,
ebbing and flowing
like your searching prayers
in the depths and shallows of all waters.
We ride the thunder
that shakes complacency into awareness,
and skip on scintillating leaves
in flirtatious tease.
We are the wings of butterflies
that kiss the air
and the stings of bees
that bring the sorrow of Death.
Our seasons are the gowns of sins and virtues,
like shadows of the clouds
gliding over sacred land,
passing through you with the Winds of Change.
I am day,
Erametin is night,
I am Mother,
Erametin is Father,
all that you are.
a project that MELBOURNE AND VICTORIA WRITERS GROUP suggested to pen with a character and the words salt secret truth and bee to be included in the story for the next meeting in August. We meet every first Sunday of each month at the Wesley Anne pub in Northcote. Where else can one be productive and have fun at the same time.