A DANCE OF SPIRITS BY EWELA KHADIJAT

We grew up dancing,

Dance was our identity,

We danced under the sounds of talking drums and flutes, in the dead of the Night,

Before the watching eyes of the blood moon, we danced Naked,

Our nakedness was sacred to us,

We were a village of women, a long line of powerful women, During the time of this practices we were the most powerful.

When we dance,

we wriggled our waist to suit the rhythms of the music, the music of the spirits,

A higher vibration of different collections of sound frequencies fused together to invite the spirits of higher dimensions to come dine with us,

When we danced,

we drew on the magic of all the elements of the universe, the earth, the air, water and fire, as our bodies serve as host in it’s natural form, we danced,

we dance until our spirits interchange, moving us from realms to realms, showing us the truths of the spirits.

We dance and dine with our ancestors hearing the truth about our powers and identity,

We danced the dance of the spirits,

It was who were until it wasn’t,

An identity we were proud to carry until it became a burden we had to bear,

As evil is what they now call it,

We woke up to our identity lost, Our culture buried.