(By T Kebede, 12 january 2021) –
Cry, Mama Cry!
She is not that old but has lived long;
Long enough to suss out right from wrong.
From the looks, she is not that old,
She exudes amaranth freshness of a young girl
Stepping through the nubile threshold.
But make no mistake, she is old enough
To have taken Planetary ride –
Some smooth and others rough.
And yet all these Notwithstanding, she wishes –
As everyone does, against all those who vied
And wagered she has a slim chance to survive –
Much longer to live,
But paradoxically, she also has the craving to die.
Most of the time she laughs
And with the beauty that she is,
She woos with ease the hearts of the most intrepid beasts.
But, be warned, she has a sad side,
How hard try she might, she cannot hide.
In between the long and seductive laughter of hers
Intermittently and unexpectedly she also bursts into paroxysm cries.
When asked why?
She did reply;
That she had relied
Upon children who unashamedly deny
In her black womb once they did lie.
“That hurts and makes me cry,
Because it is not utter lie.”
She said this as she lay
In hospital, recovering from a wound
To her abdomen, from the back she got harpooned
In the back garden of her domain
Where she reared the children,
By, who else, but, one perfidious creation of her own,
Who has lost his mind!