Queen Mother to Future I

before your head
rested at my knee
i recognized the mark
on your arm

at council you would sit
by my feet
play with the beads
around my ankle
swallow the words
the other mothers and
i whispered as promise

some nights
as i sat on a stool
in front of my hut
listening to the moon
you were a sloth on my
right shoulder
your eyes twin stars
charting a topography

it could not have been otherwise
you had to erect your own stool
bridging memory
lacing a landscape
spirally infinite in its journey

i am gone now
at least my breath no longer fogs this world
but your work is not done
go and plant three baobab trees
so their roots will intertwine
fashioning a river for the
ship that is coming

By Opal Palmer Adisa

Biography:

Opal Palmer Adisa is a Jamaican writer, cultural activist, gender specialist and photographer who has published 20 collections, including poetry, short stories, novels and children’s book. http://www.opalpalmeradisa.com