Sabon Shekara

By Ojo Taiye

I praise once again I praise salt on the window pane I am watching the magpies chatter

the struggle of this winter morning whether or not you are here I remember how to pray

my enunciation unsatisfactory a language corrupted for colonizers their mythology

engrained & engraved in my hybrid skin hardwired into my vocal chord a lover that

wouldn’t let go folded into my shirt pocket cupping my chest beginning to end like a key

seared into my palms how rich the memory when you wake me up too early a child

familiar with duty in a house full of pilgrims maybe this is why we name every tide a

hand the quiet in the middle of everything called “hope” looking back now I could see it

the invisible talisman we hold in our hands as we lift our heads & kowtow call it the joy

of devotion it’s been said sacrifice opens your body into a hollow more than motion &

daily every word feels intentional the sun waning behind you as the children sit against

the threshold holding their slates & like the good child each syllable they write reminds 

me of home the same old joy pouring into every heart each time we sip & share your

story a father’s godly pursuit everything we haven’t learnt yet