& This is how your mother too travelled

K. Asare-Bediako

you are in your own chin, churning into a new thing

you greeted the moon to sip your tears & the sun

isn't happy you nodded in grief,

Let me tell you something...

your mother basked into the air like flame, tearing her deceased into pieces-like pillow for you to rest one day on her chest

this is how she taught you death is a liar &

the owls eye is living only if you believe that the dead are still alive

& this is how she narrated her itinerary before clinging her body to the soft earth, she welcomes

a bride—yes, she once conceived a forbidden fruit

which evolved you—

You see, you are a termite- being even after you raffle into this world, there is this war interrupting the rains in the heavens—heavenward is shaking it's leg to partway with its tears,

Maybe, because your mother left with a notable fling but you do not know how to name a silhouette piece

She is an epitome of magnitude—magnanimous

but you seem to embrace the outer feelings by soothsayers that do not have names,

Remember this is how your mother spits to pour

herself into anew being in a new world, a Moses

is a Moses who knows how to catch fire,

I beseech you to take after the rebels who preach

peace and pieces but do not let them encompass

your brain

***

Asare Albert Kweku, writing as K. Asare-Bediako is a young upcoming Ghanaian writer, teacher, coach, poet and a legal aspirant. He writes as therapy to aid him put away the thoughts of his unseen father from birth.

His works has been featured in or are forthcoming in Eskimopi, Ngiga, Nanty green, Fevers of the mind, The Stripes and elsewhere. You can check him up on Facebook; Phaa K.Asare-Bediako.

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