To Oshun, From Margaret’s Daughter

Your skin glistens, draping your form like sun-warmed honey.
Full of the sweetness and delights of womanhood.
Such beauty kisses you, far finer than the gold and amber you wear.
You did not forget your daughter, stolen by the greed of delusioned men.
Your comfort wrapped around her even in the strangest of lands.
She never forgot her mother, who spoke to her through the strangest of idols.
She never forgot the pride her mother taught her.
Forgive her children, and their children, that forgot who gave them strength.
Forgive me, for not knowing you, until my path was forged away.
I know, so little. I strain to hear my ancestor’s words.
But what I heard, I listened. Roses & adornment laid out every day for you.
Sweeter than honey, you are, Oshun.
I shall walk with pride. My hips defy the stares of men.
I shall walk as my ancestor walked. With the stride of a strong unbroken woman.