Three Wishes of Bahia

Each January in Salvador, Brazil, at the Church of Our Lord of Bonfim, worshippers wash the steps and dress all in white to honor the divinity, who is associated with the Yoruba god Oxalá, creator of the world. He is linked to a peaceful end (bom fim). The worshippers take vows to him by tying a ribbon around the wrist. With each of three knots they tie, they say their vow to themselves, which must remain secret. It is thought that when the ribbon falls off the wrist of its own accord that the wish will be fulfilled.

on the steps of Bahia we make it
gleaming white church upon the sea
we wash the steps in January
dressed all in white we wash we wash
wash them down into the sea

three wishes around your wrist, three wishes
the ribbon itself decides when to break
not until then may you remove it
the only thing to do is wait

three wishes it took to enslave the ocean
three wishes to bind the world by four directions only
three wishes to frame yourself in dreams
you thought would make you free

release them, they have become heavy
wash them down into the sea

three wishes around your wrist, three wishes
the ribbon itself decides when to break
not until then may you remove it
the only thing to do is wait

holding your wrist against his stomach
when he tied the ribbon on you,
he whispered, Wish, now

tugged threads tight
about your skin
two times more
he tied it

three knots: not then, not now, not ever
three knots to break
three knots to tie you to your fate
you may not rip, or shred, or cut it
the only thing to do is wait

I hear in your pulse
soul’s ache

three knots you hear:
do not, will not, cannot
no scissors, no teeth, no blades
could be a year, maybe two
the only thing to do is wait

three wishes around your wrist, three wishes
the ribbon itself decides when to break
not until then may you remove it
the only thing to do is wait

after months, at meetings, frayed threads, uneven
show off the state of your soul
you’re tempted to slash at it, to kill it
but wait, wait for the down-flying spear
of spirit’s visit

I feel in your pulse
soul’s fear

here, close, the murmur:
you are not long for this world
not as you are, not as you are

break, break, my dear
break