CoolGrovePress is a recipient of the 2007-2008 Face Out Re-grant from the Council of Literary Magazines and Presses [CLMP] . The publication of Paths of Sanctuary has been possible in part due to this grant.
chapter two
in the path of a-che
the red clay path runs from the shore uphill for nearly a quarter of a mile before opening unto a vista revealing the ancient city below. in the distance, salmon colored adobe walls rise alongside connecting red mud footpaths. in this season of fullness the purple skies glow in the warmth of a magenta sunset as spirit-boats return to shore, their white sails slack, their nets full, laden down with the catch of the day, drawn in by evening tides. sunset colors dance off spirit-guides dressed in white garb, gathering in the oncoming dusk. fires lit alongside the shore signal closing off of spirit-passageways as the business of yet another day eases towards its’ end.
entering the gates of the spirit-women’s compound carrying the infant close to her body, the elderly angel is met by a calling of sacred drums, ringing of ancient bells, the unison of many spirit-women chanting in meditation and the sound of spirit-children hard at play.
not long past the gates the path divides in two. one way traverses alongside a steep incline, across a shining bridge of fire and runs up towards a white domed clay compound sitting on a cliff overlooking and reflected in the quiet waters of a golden sea below. the other path forks along the compound wall for a short distance before opening onto a sprawling plateau. in between the trees small white mud adobe like structures dot the field of vision as far as the eye could see. as the spirit-woman reaches the yard of her dwelling she is suddenly surrounded by a growing number of spirit-children, fascination clear within their eyes as they silently join the growing and strange procession, clearly watching the bundle she carries with rapt attention. before opening the flap to enter her dwelling, the spirit-elder turns and pulls back her outer robes revealing the foundling to the community. the spirit-children gather around the baby amidst peals of laughter and exhaust their interest before suddenly turning as one and beginning to run downhill, following the path toward the sea.
-blessings of the ancestors upon you nana,
calls out the black, black spirit-sister crossing toward the spirit-elder and the foundling, trailed by a black, black spirit-child not yet six-years-old.
-and upon you too, ntoto
replies the spirit-elder,
-come, look at what mother ocean has given me.
the two spirit-women huddle around the foundling while the spirit-child keeps a distance, his eyes keenly focused on the bundle held just above his head. he doesn’t follow all of their conversation but gathers somehow that the baby has been found and doesn’t seem to belong to anyone. finally after pulling on his mother’s garb twice, she focuses her full attention,
-what is it ladji?
he points until the spirit-elder brings the bundle down to eye level. he silently studies the foundling with a great intensity before folding his arms tightly across his near six-year-old chest, proudly declaring with simple conviction, a big smile and no hesitation,
-this my baby!
after another thought he adds,
-…and we need to call her a-che.