Next of Kin
Next of Kin
She had never been taught the trick.
To the men such things were granted.
Air filled pelts, breath under water.
To the women was left the nest.
Near ashore she saw them panic.
Her father among them scrambling.
All overboard clutching bubbles.
With chilled heart she waded in deep.
The river rose swift over head,
but what could one see inside it?
Living shadow, curious beings.
Frightened hands did lose the surface.
Writhing desperate seeking soul,
chest bursting, inflamed with fate,
she ceased to struggle, resigning.
No more sound but mothers calling.
They heft her aboard grins forming.
Quaking limbs of wet ebony,
the Nile had delivered a jewel.
An able kick freed the water.
Eyes tight, she curled as a fetus.
Then covered with appraising hands,
in lustful chorus of strokes and jeers,
Insistent prods displayed her gifts.
A fine catch fit for the priming.
But pleasing to God, It ends there.
A word of one voice repelled them.
This voice offered hands that cradled,
and kiss moist cloth to cover dried eyes
stung red from the strain of dying.
Twice saved, survival's heart still pounds.
Her health did come in one new moon.
Put to task she oiled the wood planks.
Always watching that merry one.
Who, tending others as herself
with whispers in the others tongue,
so wild of hair and lengthily,
seemed a contradicting body.
For crew, song, frolic, constant talk;
for hers, hymns of healing murmured.
And for the newly captured prey
she talked away the crude of mind.
Why they obeyed one such as I?,
was wondered on that rolling barge.
She learned the trick and many more,
through moon and stars and sun down gold.
Schooled by her sister half in blood,
they blew new life into cub skins.
They tied them to the men waist round,
who dove in long to find lost spoils.
In want of that sustaining breath,
they pulled from bubbles left afloat.
My father's home - she’d smile at ease
when eve they rest hid from the sun.
That merry one in silence waits,
for the land is scrolling by now.
Her serenades now prayerful sighs,
as they’re rowing out for dealing.
Strong ordered hands do sever them.
Half in blood, they’d stood together.
Her eyes were full of want to tell,
but the living tells it better
Amazing Animals in Art
Copyright © Kwenusa Dike | Year Posted 2006
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