The Half-God of Rainfall

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Modupe’s mother bled: no mortal man would know

this child. No one will come near! She swore to the stars,

to the galaxy’s dark. Osún’s oath shook black holes.

Woe to those who would test me! To those who would try!

She made Modupe her high priestess, her go-to,

her vessel, her self on Earth, and built her a shrine

and compound by the river’s edge, where the soil soaked

with water meant Modupe could move land, unwind

the swamp into a weapon should she be provoked.

And though it became widely known that Modupe

was untouchable, it never stopped men. It stoked

their prying eyes and their naked hunger. On clear

nights they’d secretly watch her. They’d see the full moon

beaming to the rippling and pristine waters where

she bathed. The water, like liquid diamonds, cocooned

her with light. This happened years later, when she was

fully grown and legends of her beauty had bloomed

into foolish shameless lustful moans and prayers

pitched to Sàngó, the brash God of Thunder, who too

would grab his godhood, gaze at Modupe and pause

to stroke himself. If she could humble thunder too

how safe was she among men? In his palace up

among storm clouds, Sàngó squeezed himself, slow, imbued

with dreams of her beneath him, dark skin ripe, breast cupped

when__BOOM!___rang the doors of his palace, the room shook

BOOM!___I’M THE GOD OF THUNDER! WHO DARES INTERRUPT …

Oh, greetings, Osún. She swept in. Her garments took

the deep thick greenish tinge of low waves. Her crown quaked

with new-moon jewels. The River Goddess, angry, shook.

Sàngó! That’s Modupe! You shouldn’t even take

a peek! You know the oath I took__/__Yes but__/__Nothing!

Now, go clean yourself. I bring news. For your own sake.

Moments later Sàngó returned, low-thundering

with each step. Don’t sulk! A ah! Now, I know his name

angers you, but the Greek God-King, Zeus, is warring

and mankind again is at risk. Modupe’s name

is drawn among the list of likely casualties

if you react, Sàngó. Now, our sage who has tamed