Ecstasy Poem by Olumide Omoyele

Faster and faster, the thrusts get
The gyrations, poetic
Like a solemn, agreeable battle
Between Gods, those giants
Of the ancient mould
Sango and Oya
Wilfully trading fire
And thunder and rain
Oblivious to the subjects
Who drench and burn
Like a masquerade stamping
On a party of insects
Blind, it seems, to Osun's jealousy

The battle slows and quickens
And picks up pace yet again
And then suddenly, there it was
A convulsion of seemingly eternal bliss
The embrace that follows
A thing of beauty no less
Little sparks of fire and
Tiny raindrops can be glimpsed
As the heavy panting
Struggles to subside
An arrival worthy of gods surely
And then the scales fall off as
Both crash right back to earth