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For Asezu
by Julie Adams
Her name conceived of God’s love, light
within a tiny flame—it’s tender touch a tickle
in the vigorous heart of the African sun.
Upon a sleep-sack bed, dampened rags
cool her mother’s fever, as she prepares
her first born cub for the wild world
to combat rats, drought, and the agony
of AIDS. Her mother lays patient and still
in death’s sober and blistering shade.
Surely, the lush light of paradise awaits this child
not unlike dusky thieves, hyenas, wild dogs
in the woods, where firewood hides, she must go....
Age nine she minds her siblings like a matriarch,
four pairs of hungry eyes comb her
for cassava, comfort, and maize.
Already a memory, papa walks with the ancestors,
he watches over their harvest, she prays—
a look to the sky, eyes dry as the crops.
On the edge of a village, born of earth and blood,
of pain and love, this child, this phoenix, knows strength
like Solomon rising, like the sun within her.
07/14/2006 Author's Note: ...thanks to all for their comments on this piece, they help so much...
Posted on 07/14/2006
Copyright © 2024 Julie Adams
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by CM Bauer on 07/14/06 at 04:20 PM Powerful... your imagery is superb. I do love that you are writing about this topic too... |
| Posted by Tim D Livingston on 07/14/06 at 04:42 PM Excellent start. What an awesome picture of a harsh reality. |
| Posted by Heide McAlister-Bates on 07/14/06 at 06:12 PM I like this, though it saddens me. The stark realism is overwhelming. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 07/29/06 at 11:24 AM Solomon should rise in the East and be as wise as this Feast ( of images ) |
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