The GRAND Mother

It has been 90 something years
She can’t quite remember
That is what they say
90 something years
She has been here this long
She has given forth life
Seen Death
All these years
She has been here
She has lived
She has been
Done what needed to be done
She who was raised by warriors
has done what needed to be done
Birthed sons
Raised boys to men
These men
These men who were her boys
these boys who have suckled her breasts dry
Suckled life out of her
Now men
She wonders if she did right
How she raised them
Words fly through the wind in violent whispers
Aora, dala, Seme, Nyahera, nam, ji, chuora, min ji, pacho, kanye meka, chuny, maga, here, the boys, my boys, wuota, pi, yao, time, come, nyidoto, mon, dhakono, nyieka, minwa, ang’wen
She falters / These Words that make sense and no sense
She has been here every morning
E kul ka
The cows no longer here
Scents of births and deaths
blood, dung, tears linger
mingles with the morning dew
This earth is wet
She smiles
Words fly
in violent whispers
She must return
The heart is heavy
The sun must rise again
it is not time
These boys
Her boys
Now men
She has raised these men
These men that have become
She taps her walking cane ever so lightly to the earth
Her irritation visible, slight
These boys
Her boys
Men now
Men who make decisions
Her cane touches earth once more
Her irritation slight, visible
The saints have been holding court
it is time
Her bones heavy
Words fly around her in soft whispers
The end is here
Her lips curl in defiance
Her cane strikes the earth
All Saints rise in unison
It is time
Winds howl
and rage
She is the wind
the eye of the storm
Blood trickles down her thighs
between her legs
one last time
to mingle with this earth
It has been 90 something years
It is time.
She steps forward.