The Unfathering of It​

​

it was in the warm pews of the chapel

in the morning light

drinking lemonade in deep draughts

that i saw God

in a star-apple tree

 

He told me 

He wanted me

told me to lie down

 

i almost confused His call

with the songs of unknown birds

 

the air was heavy and full

pregnant with the songs of 

my ancestors of the songs of

the unknown 

birds in the wind 

breath raw with rum 

blackness in

blackness out

warm branches reaching up my skirt

the unfathering of it

 

twilight came like lullaby

flesh like crushed 

coconut raw with rum

seeking to stir the weight of my spirit

 

who owns my lips 

but me?

 

i am a tree

some fruits are good

and some are bad

​

and when i speak

is it me speaking?

 

even the birds know their song

 

the moon between the pews,

searching

i wear my mother’s face in the mirror

she knew God too

 

how history rhymes sometimes

for us women

no one can serve two masters

like we can

the warm hues of our skin

spill

like the walls of Jericho

and we stay silent

 

he asks us to call him God

join him in Heaven

and we always smile

almost as if 

we knew the hymn

by heart