The flame flickered forcefully
like twas been controlled by her emotions
her facial muscles tighten, hopefully
to be released after contraction

Wrappers wrapped waist well
covering the breast of old and young women
she screams, breaking the still of the night
the older women console her, they can tell

Mats made of rafia rolled up
all hands on deck, sweating dripping off their faces
like pissed off clouds they poured
but the heat did not hit them
as much as the pain she felt

Deep within she wished the gift inside dies
so she could escape this torture, alive
but then she thought of the joy
maybe she should hang on one last time

Push! Push! Push! The voices ordered
her strenght almost drained, strong will left
she knew she had to try, mama conquered
she can too, must no lead to death

And in that moment, she hung on
not giving up, not letting hope go
if not for anything at all, she loved the unborn
gift that she was to birth

Mier! Mier! Mier! The sqeaky voice restores
the hope, stenghtens the rope she holds
life can still be beautiful
the crying gift confirms
tears escaped her eyes
like due harvest, they came
she loved them, she loved life

She wrapped the tiny bundle of cry
around her small lapper, and looked into his galaxy eyes
perfect gift, best thing to have ever happened
and in the spur of the joy that enveloped her
the elated voices of women sang chukwu dalu!
She calls out his destiny,

2 thoughts on “Delivered” by oxymorontalks (@oxymoron93)

  1. Joys of motherhood

    1. thanks for reading

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