…without guns and fanfare, except a crown for the festival and raffia skirts for fans…!   I think of the wide-eyed gaze of the masquerade mocking what it sees. I must admit, I’ve always liked the power that comes from being behind the mask. Tradition invented the festival, and custom dictates the rules of the game. Nature, the harvest granted in yam barns,– I am inviting the world to see. The harvest week is approaching...

Christmas season soaks in fervent anticipation By wishes of children everywhere that hunt parents. Christmas eve is as happy as a smile! In the air of the night’s sainted tannery A goat’s fated dream hates epiphany! Smoke that ascends in annihilation! The sun rays from the window pane opened our eyes That see not when the ephemeral breeze kisses The spirit fortress inside the grounds of our family yard. Across the endless land The cool...