Flesh and Spirit
(John Raymond Pollard)
2005-07-16

Feast of flowers, rhythms, wreaths give witness.
Worshipers flock to the beach
bearing offerings to Iemanjá.
Jangadas set out from the shore.
As mocha arms move the crude oars,
the sea heaves with blossoms brought for this holy day.

Iemanjá, recall the day you heard me.
I’d been dragged beyond the bay,
savaged by the wind and sea.
The storm closed in suddenly.
The sharks swarmed round in the deep.
To you I prayed.

Then the sky broke open,
and a rainbow was raised--
glowing light bridge in the haze--
to show me what could be
a journey leading me home.

Iemanjá, this is your feast.
Dear goddess, keep me strong and bring me peace.
Find me fish to fill my net,
and grant love should ever I fret.
Please wash away all my regrets--
cleanse them away.

Iemanjá, my son grows thin.
It seems like something eats him from within.
He sweats and struggles through the night.
There’s something that just isn’t right.
His vision grows dim in day light.
Cast out this demon he fights;
send it away.

Let the sky break wide open,
and a rainbow was raised--
glowing light bridge in the haze--
and show me what might be
a journey leading him home.

Feast of flowers, rhythms, wreaths...
Followers flock to the beach
bearing offerings to Iemanjá.
Jangadas set out from the shore.
As mocha arms move the crude oars,
and surf swells with blossoms brought for this holy day.