TRUSTING MY GRANDMOTHER (For Paulina Rabari)


My grandmother tiptoes on secrets of the soil,
Her slit eyes scanning the ages.
She dips her finger into the soil here where many years live
And into the soil there where eons are homed.
Then grandma tastes her soiled finger in tilted stillness
Against the winds, hearing secrets
Of the soils

Now with surgical precision, tenderly
Granny’s mud clear blurs across my eyes
Molds sharpness to my deepest ears
Unclogs the breathlessness of my nose
And chews with my mouth the words of sages!

And rains fall
until crops grow.
And suns shine
until earths crack.
And men lie
with laughing women.
Just like my grand prophetess told.
Just like magic.

And I understand.
And I rule a surprised world.

© OLUOCH-MADIANG’, 2013

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