Mama or Mama-to-be
The wind blows your words to my deaf ears,
and I wonder,
where have you been all this while?
I grew up believing I slipped
through a hole in the sky
to trudge this sand.
My mates went to school,
but I stayed back, always waiting for bells to ring
and bring them back on pitch
to kick the round play joy.
My father debarred my scents
from seeping through his walls
because of his wife.
So I thought I was like our Saviour—
only that unlike Him, I have neither mother nor father.
I took to the street,
and it welcomed me.
It groomed me
and taught me how survival looks like.
I made it big through the backdoor.
But here you are,
telling me you are my mother.
From whence did I come—off the hole in your womb?
Mama… or mama-to-be…
please let me know.
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