By: Okoli Stephanie Orjiugo (O.S.O)
Level: 1
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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Frailty and fragility are knitted into her being
Seated on a cane chair beneath an Udara tree
The wind blows a trumpet of victory
As nnunu perched high above tunes a melodious soliloquy
Onye kere elu na ala must have been very pleased on that day
A day when deep slumber was requisite
Magic in the form of mud and blood racing into a scaffold
A living sculpture is formed, different from its original doppelganger
Baked in nature’s oven of warmth and submerged into the hot springs of care
She is readied for the turmoil that may be sniffed into her being
A multitude of umu creeps from beneath her
Tears drops consolidate at the base of her chin to affirm the presence of beards
Her sigh to the sky is like a gentle breeze that tickles the ever listening ear of Chukwu
Who in turn whispers back to her in this realm of open communication
Her testimonies are written as the crisscrossed lines on her palms
Serving as roadmaps that lead to every path that Chukwu showed her
Hands so frail now yet bony enough to crack the wedging doors of wisdom open
Mouth so dry but wet with saliva of stories untold
The evening wind carries with it stories for generations to come
Eyes cast upward
An Udara fruit as orange as the setting sun
Swings like a pendulum
Nnunu flies off whilst leaving its tunes echoing into the approaching night
A hypnotic sight for the frail one to sleep in peace
O.S.O
