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Sensual description of Central American Witch's walk to the sea.
Skeeze Whitlow was born in Buffalo, sailed in the Merchant Marine, graduated from Marymount. Believes life to be a good thing.
In due time, I heard through the scuttlebutt, word of a most amazing creature. An Indian Goddess. With iridescent beauty holding forth, standing proud, high atop a lush green hilltop in Armuelles. Our destination! And this Goddess’s name was Estrella.
So this was what it was all about: Estrella. They spoke of her with reverence. Beauty untouchable. Estrella’s light feminine mannerisms captivate. A ray of hope shines from above with the mention of this Goddess. Genuine seven crowned Chiriqui. Her dimensions consummate apparition like karat fixates diamond. Blameless vitality shifts through spectrum. Bizarre shades of night. The earth, created for her amusement; water conceived so she might have somewhere to walk. Well formed bare feet, exquisite in their arch. She moves through dreams. And upon them. Every ethereal grace rewards those touched by Estrella.
A glimpse of her as she wanders down toward the sea, on midnight strolls with a sleek panther who comes in out of the jungle to nuzzle against the firm of her thigh. Momentary pleasure indulges as they, two together, amble along the noiseless depth of riverside’s mist. As if in dance, she’d sway; he’d stretch velvety paws of guile. Heel and paw glisten over shiny slate, over garlands of flowers draped along the bank. Sashaying through low fronds brushing against the calves of their legs. Touching the wily innocence of this night. Clinging vines reach for river’s succor. Before glowing orchids of Espirito Santo the atmosphere smacks of forever. They absorb the water’s bubbling gurgle. In plain sight, reptilian alertness. El Grande Zappo. The sensitive eyes of all God’s creatures. Below nesting birds of paradise, the cat’s haunching vertebrae slithers to the tickle of brazen fingernails. Down to the river’s mouth, they step, often carelessly setting foot within the tempting flow, keeping clear of large round phosphorescent boulders. Dappled moonlight gleams.
Down to the gushing mouth where white crests of algae-laden sea lap against this peaceful flow, against these deep reflective pools which began their trickle and fall from craggy mountains, clear as day, rolling down through leafy hillsides to vast grasses, dipping to banana plantations. Estrella’s native land. Top soil takes on new meaning. Still waters span loamy banks. Aqua elements meet, touch and mingle. Rich dark silt sweats out nutrients. Shallow roots caress. Palms touch the starry starry sky. Thin trees, overgrowth of vine. Shoots and sprouts, scrubby bushes, blossoming bijous. Tiny scurrying things thrive here. Off to the side of the pummeled footpath. Beneath lush cover – small eyes blink. Noises coo. Magic escapes in effervescence. Memory bubbles.
To a hallowed opening in this suffocating jungle flora. The melding of fresh water and salt, a frothy bubbling point where the flow’s clarity is engulfed. Clouded. Enraptured. This land’s sweet nectar gives way to the sea’s stiff breeze. Estrella bids the famished black cat drink. Lowering its head, the panther dips its tongue into brackish liquid. Slurping, lapping up juices of life. Sublime juices, pledging elusive powers. His sleek black whiskered mouth stitched with incisors; nimble pink lapper one notch above silence. Need pulsates like spanning rings. Desire craves this vicinity.
Estrella parts with her midnight paramour. Puma, lord God of fear and respect. She’ll walk with him tomorrow night. And ever more. Her ankles kick. Sand and salt sift through urging toes. Dry beach luminescent against crashing waves. Frothing traces of brine. The wind tugs her hair, a knowing smile glistens; she outshines. Her muscles flex. Shadowy flanks curve. Eager feet prowl. In search of dawn.
Yes, this is what I overheard from the beaten and world-weary sailors as they made their ways back and forth from the meal table. I was mesmerized. Stunned. My anticipation shot up through the overhead. All I wanted was to meet this woman. Yes, I needed a Goddess like never before.
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© 2005 Skeeze Whitlow
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