Ogbanje Poem by Ray Anyasi

Goodbye, says the lips that said welcome.
As at dawn you danced into sunset.
Shall we now look to when next you come?
Or count we now 'tis as an asset?
A broken pot in the hag's backyard.

We heard it sound, the first cry so shrill.
Blood bloated eyes before they saw us.
Wet tiny feet that did the gods thrill.
Full small life, of blood, water and pus.
Of bone, hair like silk. Like us indeed.

Hear the old nurse cry her umpteenth joy.
The legs closed from whence ye hath emmerged.
Sibblings, kiss goodbye to favorite toy,
Folks and ancestors have now converged.
'Tis is how we herald your entrance.

Shall you depart before we dare do?
Will you not spare us your final gasp?
Nay, hurry off before you wore shoe.
Swift, as on wings of a desert wasp.
The gods were flirting, we should have known.

Stay now we pray a little longer.
Till you dance of war at the king's court.
When your arms are a little stronger.
When the virgins for you shall come forth.
A little longer, yes, just longer.

You leave us in bafflement of these.
Why you want not your breasts sprouted old.
Or stay to seduce them blokes and tease.
Why you turned back with your hands yet cold.
Why? Why? Weeping mother asks the grave.

Do you prefer to rest in this place?
Under the butts of banana trees.
Where periwinckles shall lick your face.
And you're mocked by the night owls of the trees.
Do you? Do you? She asks the grave.

Tell me now the course that you trailed.
The tide that traveled south stream with ease?
Where the priestess fetched from as she wailed.
Or you are with the gods of the seas?
Tell me, tell me. I want to know now.

A little while the barren sobs soft.
Then a little while she's fortunate.
She's taken from deep pit to top loft.
She reaches out to console her mate.
Weep not, the mother's light is put off.

'Tis is the life that came and doth bloom.
It is the scudding clouds of men.
A sniff of the rose that ends in gloom.
Cry, while joy shout in guts of women.
Weep now, weep now. The lilly is crushed.