Singularly reclusive and intense,
explosive Ogun,
relentless force of iron,
keeper of the path forward,
sits in his fortress,
glaring
at all,
ignoring
maintenance duties,
blocking any entry
to the highway he has forged!
Osun,
irresistibly resplendent,
of sweetest waters, of sensuous art,
stuck in local traffic,
swerves to the shoulder,
dons her shimmering robes,
lithely stretches and retrieves
sparkling jewels from the glove compartment
unbuckles
and slides outside a borrowed sedan.
All reason useless against
endless stubbornness,
she softly steps towards the embankment
ensuring Ogun has the fullest view
and dances up a storm—
literally.
Ogun enraged
stops the rain
leaves his palatial plaza
and walks
angrily
and
imperiously
towards the
liquid
swaying
Osun.
He stops. She stops.
They
are face to face.
And
she delivers:
the
one wallop
with
no rebuke,
of
no defense:
honey from her lips.
