When I die, I want to be buried back in my mother’s body.

Be left alone to swim in the liquid bed of her womb.

Be fed again directly through her mouth.

But no, this is a recollection of suffering for my mother

Whose open legs carried labour pangs for a baby whose head refused to bow to the slamming hands of Earth’s breeze.

That is a recollection of my mother’s suffering

She had to carry a god who refused to yield to the call of flesh and join others subject to the universe

Until a prophet’s voice was used and the name of Christ was proclaimed to her hearing.

For this is the only thing she would bow to

The name of one who knew how to die and come alive again

The breath of one to whom the universe is subject to.

Regardless of my mother’s suffering

When I die – I want to be buried back in my mother’s body.

So when my chi comes to claim my body again I may turn a breathless turning, force my mother’s legs closed

Point my forefingers at it

Proclaim the name of the one it also bows to and tell it to

Suffer not this woman to be scorned twice

For a mighty daughters sake.

2 thoughts on “Ibobo

    1. Munachim Chukwuma February 25, 2019 — 8:45 pm

      Thank you so much Nick!

      Liked by 1 person

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