I am Yemaya, Goddess of the seas.  I work closely with Olokun, who was my twin sister in the Earthly plane before we came here.  Our mother chose our names well.  My sister was always the more silent and inward of the two of us.  Observant, and watchful, giving good advice when necessary, but mostly keeping to herself.  Her soul was as deep as the darkest ocean trenches of the dark seas. I was always the more outgoing of us, as sociable as the kelp forests and all the creatures within.  She was content to be alone, and even preferred it that way.  I always knew I wanted to fall in love, and have children.  I did find that  kind of love, eventually.  He was my Olorun, my inspiration. 

My sister, Olokun went deep into the human psyche.  I preferred the more shallow ends of the surface areas, such as tending to our feelings, and swimming through the matters of the heart.  Olorun in the meantime  tended to the blue skies above, watching all of creation from in his upper domain.

I come when you are feeling blue.  I remind you how to find your sparkle.

Though there were many stories of the goddess that I was named after, my story is my own. In the original tales she gave birth to gifted children. I managed to do that with Olorun, my husband. We followed my mother's tradition, and named our children after our ancient gods of old.

Our first born, our son, we named him Obatala.  He was, his father's son in every way.  My Olorun was a ruler of the skies.  Our son followed in his footsteps.  He was truly angelic and sweet tempered.  He took the form of an angel when he would visit earth.  Our second child and son, Eshu, he was an angel form as well; though he was more of a prankster than a protector.  Ori, our third son, was more of a shapeshifter, choosing the wings or fish tail or even legs at will.  He was more of a supervisor of our human beings choices in how they planned on going to heaven.  He was an excellent teacher when you looked to him for guidance.  We named our fourth son, Oronmila, who chose to be like Ori in the way he would change his shape.  He was a curious one, always wanting to find something else to learn.  Finally, we had Shango, who preferred fire and lightening in the heavens with his father over my watery home.  He is my son and I love him for that.  I dislike his haughty attitude at times.  He has a good heart, he just needs to learn to be more refined.

After these sons, I kept giving birth to mermaids.  We have so many now.  I can't even keep up with their names.  I suppose it's my own fault.  I love being pregnant.  It was only a matter of time that I would fill the seas with them.  Maybe one day I will slow down.  Maybe.   For now we are all content, and though my children do not age, we can pass on to the heavens at will at any time.

My daughters were raised to be free and think with their own minds.  They would rather be single than be with the wrong person.  For all the daughters I have given birth to, the vast majority are content to be single and love one another in their close sisterhood.  At least it was this way in the beginning.

My sister, Olokun, gave birth to her children in the cecaelia form.  The were accepted well enough, but then tension began to arise when Olokun started giving birth to her own mermaids.  I'm not even sure how it started, but my own daughters began to turn their noses up at their cousins, in both their forms, claiming to be prettier than they.  It led to resentment, and then fighting with one another.  I was ashamed of them.  I never raised them that way.  Olokun and I both had to banish these children of ours, thus bringing down each or our family's population by at least a third. 

At least today my sister Ododuwa was married... again.  But to someone like us?  Who would have known?  He must be a very manly type of man indeed in order to keep my sister's interest for an eternity.  I wonder what he looks like?  I would have loved to have gone to their wedding, and met this mystery man, but I am pregnant, yet again. 

A mermaid with a red and white striped tail appears by my side.  She has beautiful fans upone her back and tail.  She resembles the lionfish more so than she does my daughters.

"Hello, Ahunna.  Did you enjoy your wedding?"

"Yes!  It was lovely. I even got to make a new friend."

A woman with caramel skin follows near.  She is encased in a floating bubble.  It glides through the water as she sits inside, serene.  She floats by the woman's side, and then her feet from the bubble hit the ground.  She is now walking towards me on dry land. 

"Very interesting technique," I say.

"Thank you," she says, appearing up at my ocean surface.  "I've never seen the sky from this view before.  It's beautiful!"

"It is indeed," I say.

"This is Dulce, daughter of-"

"-of Ododuwa.  Yes, she has grown into a beautiful young woman."

"She married my father today!"  Dulce looked very happy indeed.

"I am so happy for you," I say.  Why don't you sit here and tell me all about him?"

"You've never met him before?" asked Ahunna.

"No, my world is tied here.  I have my own children to tend to.  Besides, she can come and see me anytime."

"But if all of your sisters had the same idea, you would never see each other again."

"Well, I suppose you are right.  I never really thought of it that way.  Perhaps I should go check on her now."

I closed my eyes.  Rays of light came beaming from out of my head and heart.  I smiled.  All was well with my sister.

"How did you do that?" asked Dulce.  Ahunna looked very curious as well.

"It was a trick we learned back when we first began to turn immortal.  I can show you, if you wish."

So I did.  It was simply a sincere wish, of sending your love to the one on your mind.  They hear your thoughts, and you hear theirs.  It is so difficult for the ones that have never been in the sky dome, to remember that you are never truly apart.  These beautiful women with me, Dulce and Ahuana, they may have super powers; but they're minds were just as mortal as any other human that I and my sisters and mother used to be, filled with things like finding their place in the world, and finding someone to love and be loved by one day.

These young women continued to visit with me in my watery abode.  I very much enjoyed their company.  They even were able to witness the next birth of my next batch.  You see, I gave birth more like a human in the beginning; but after my Shango, I began to give birth more like the fish do.  My belly would grow with a hundred eggs inside, easily.  The children were born much smaller of course, but in this beautiful ocean, my tiny babies were thriving, feeding on algae as well as my breastmilk, and even feeding from the essence of my tail. 

"They are perfect," they said.  And they were.  Perfect in every tiny form.

They say that the human eyes are the one organ that never grows.  In my children, that was not so.  They looked more like miniature six-month olds that gradually grew larger in size.  These two young women stayed with me just a little while longer, amazed at how quickly my children grew.  Within one human hear, my daughters were fully grown, and I had given birth all over again with every moon cycle in between.  I suppose you are wondering how we managed to feed so many.  You see, my daughters could drink up and absorb the sunlight in their skin.  It was all the food they needed, and being ocean dwellers, they had plenty of water too.  Sometimes they would get a human form, and then they would eat with the humans when they decided to marry.

My children, my daughters in particular, they were my song soul.  They would sing upon the shores of the beaches, and make the most marvelous music together, often singing in harmonious acapellas.  People would travel for miles to hear my precious children sing, and sometimes, my husband and sons would smile down from the skies and join in their song and rhyme.

It was a happy life indeed. 

From the first birthing they witnessed, I had one little mermaid that took a liking to Dulce and Ahunna.  She was having a mind that she wanted to have her own name.  I have so many daughters now, I don't give them a personal name anymore.  I call them all things like "My dear," or "little one."  I allow them to pick their name for themselves.  Most of them prefer to call one another "sister."  There is no wondering or misunderstanding of words, as all of them knew how to speak the way I do with heart and mind.  Many that married, allowed their lover to give them a name. 

Ahunna and Dulce decided it was time to leave.  They wished to meet the rest of the family of Nana Baluku, and that of Anyanwu and Achaman, maybe even travel outside of what we new, and find others like us. 

I was thrilled for these women.  They found a purpose with each other.  A part of me was worried for my little one to leave the safety of our ocean shallows, but there was something different about this one.  She needed something more than what I could give her. 

I called for my Shango.  He travels differently, no wings on his shoulders.  He evaporates in beams of light, of lightening, or fire, or even a combination thereof from the space he is in, and then he appears when he needs to be.  Though today he was feeling a little bit more flashy and had to come out of the mouth of a volcano from the ocean floor.  He must have wanted to show off to the ladies.

"Yes mother?"

"I wish for you to follow these women in their travels.  Keep them safe."

"I will."

I took my daughter's face in my hands, and said, "Shine bright my little star.  Your adventures await."

"Star?" she asked.

"I believe you have just given her a name," said my Shango with a smile. 

"So be it," I said.

My star wore a starfish in her hair from that day on.