ABOKI CHILD (A Nomad Child)

by Zaratu Kudu

On my own pyres of dreams, I see
Beyond the grazing of cows.
A name beyond the word “almajiri”
A life beyond the huddles of hungry bowels.
Life I bade true valediction.
I lull dreams for leisure,
The only pleasure worth sitting for under a scorching sun.
A sight I see, slowly waning
Not the sight of edibles nor wads….

For I am a clay to knowledge,
Only he can mesh me to reign or ruins.

Mother Earth, My lousy mother,
She pecks at me no more,
For all the lushness of her beak
They lay in my palm.
I no longer await her calling.

Gather your pails for I’ll make you
Wail to your master’s calling..
Then I’ll kneel and close my eyes
Not to pray but to wait…

Another day in the huddle, the few steps
I take not for alms nor sales.
The steps they hold sacred, the steps
That dare my whole being.
Today day I’ll bear them like my head-load of cheese
And caress them like milking a cow’s nipple.

That which I seek,
That which made them fight
Yet I’ll strive…

Once on prickly pebbles and stones,
Most prickly than cactus nor the heat of a desert.
Now I’ve found that which is worth wallowing for..

I graze upon white roses and green plants,
Nurtured like the weaning calf,
I am no empty gourd….

I mock starvation, not that she begs
She envies…

Now my oblong head wears a crown of wed-lock
I’ve chosen penury for a spouse…
Every sand of the hour glass plays a lyre for me,
Not a sad note.

I have a lake of stars,
No moon but I am crescent.

I can now suckle at the mountain’s nipple.
Eat and Dine like Midas
Yet I am no King…
Make the world snap like a twig
I only learn
Still I bear the brows of a Nomad…
An Aboki Child.

Lyriversity — Liberty of Creativity