A Woman On Heels I am not afraid of death, I am curious about its wrath. I am more curious about the journey of it, Because all those that embark on it Neither call nor write to us to define it. How would you know that you are dead if you dont know how death feels? You surely do think about death, right? What if it is a beautiful attractive woman on heels? You sure do know it is the opposite of birth, right? If i had two lives or more, Id split and offer this one to that aborted foetus whose mother terminated her pregnancy because she was raped and impregnated by her own father. And give the other half to that stillborn baby whose mothers knees proves how much she has been praying for his birth. Id embark on a journey where many are called in different ways And die in different days. A path that leaves many families torn Because their mother is no more and it pains them like a sharp thorn To sit around the table in her absence and say grace. I would try to understand why it pains us so much when one dies That things change, Our hearts fill with rage, We no longer care about age Because then, life feels like the end, When the curtains close and we all bend, The crowd give us a warm round of applause and we all go back stage. But on this show, Things are different. You no longer see your father waking up daily to walk thirty kilometres to work because he wants to feed his family against all odds. Neither could you see the smile on your mothers face even when she is going through difficulties because she portrays a character that even through hardships a smile is the best make up you can ever apply on your face. In this script, you can no longer see that grandmother who sits on her rocking chair on her balcony telling you that death is the beginning, yet you do not understand. You no longer feel the breeze on your fragile smooth skin, Neither do you feel the heat Nor feel your own heartbeat. Because then, Only then you are a spirit. A form of yourself you never really embraced because what mattered to you was the flesh that already haa a home, A cotton fitted coffin and a grave dug six feet underground. You realise that you werent of physical form But of spirit, Because now you are like the storm. But a calm one because your absence and presence are one and the same Because in that form nothing physical matters, not even fame. You get to realise how the plants live and actually see life in them. You realise how the humankind and the nature connects, How we relate to the universe and beyond. You are amazed by how we have the ability to walk on air But then we were told how impossible that is And those who manage to get to that realm are either called magicians or witches. You quickly run to your friends who have been so ignorant about death that they called ancestors demons. You run as fast as you can because you want to tell them that ancestors are spiritual beings who once lived, like you, But are now living in a physical form and are honoured and not worshipped because they too worship God. You however cannot reach them because the only way they can actually notice you is paying attention to how life rolls. You see the tree in your back yard smiling and waving at you, The same tree you watered daily because you loved its shade and you grew up playing on it. It thanks you for taking a good care of it. And your mothers pot plants in her living room, They give life to your sick grandmother who has tuberculosis. With each carbon dioxide she exhales, They inhale it and offer her oxygen in return. You are amazed by how beautiful life is That you realise that the reason Brownie, the dog you own that hardly eats, barks every night is because he sees evil spirits and protects you from them. You go up to him and he tells you that he is exhausted of being on guard yet he is not well taken care of. You keep walking and you meet with your forefathers, They welcome you and thank God that you have found your way back home. You want to tell your mother That you have met your little brother who died in a car accident twenty years ago, But she chases you away because her pastor read her a scripture that the deceased have no connection with the living, Yet he still goes to his parents graves to talk to them. You wish the world could stop being ignorant because even Abraham, Moses, Daniel and Adam are ancetors. And the only way we can actually go to heaven, depending on how we define heaven, Is to taste death and become an ancestor. Because indeed, Death is the beginning. Copyright (c) 2014. Lady Black Poet. All Rights Reserved
Posted on: Sun, 12 Oct 2014 18:18:24 +0000