Mother Hen

Above the city Jesus wept. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Don’t turn away, Jerusalem! Come close to me,
my children.
“I am the mother hen,” he cried. “Beneath my wings
you all can hide.
There you’ll find warmth and life and love,
my little chicks, my children.
I’ve longed to gather you to me, Jerusalem! Jerusalem,
Please let me mother you! You’ll die
without my warmth, my children!”

We hear his call but turn away, for we are all
grown-up today.
We do not want a mother now. We’ll be
nobody’s children!
But as the cold world closes in, we think
about Jerusalem,
And what it’s like to walk alone, scared,
mother-love-less children.
No one lives through these dark, cold nights
without the warmth, the love, the life
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, gives gladly
to his children.

I trust we know enough of sin, to realize the bind we’re in
When even though we say we’re old, we’re acting just
like children.
And as we turn to leave the nest, convinced our choice
is for the best,
He hopes to see us come again, next time in New Jerusalem.
No one retains their innocence without the strong,
bright broody wings
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, folds softly round
his children.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

Crippled Mind

A farmer caught a pigeon
Inside a cage, he nurtured it
Now, the farmer to the bird, was mean
He deprived it of life’s necessities.

The bird was kept in the house
Denied access to sunlight,
It grew up believing in the non-existence of light
After all, it never saw the outside world.

Years later the farmer died
And the farmer’s son, aloud said:
“I have no need for this bird
It is old and as good as dead”

Out he took the cage,
Its door he opened expecting flapping wings,
The bird which should have flown in rage
Stood there, paralysed with astonishment.

The farmer took the bird out of the cage
And carefully set it on its feet
The bird with wings flew not
Its mind was already crippled.

Many of us are like this proverbial bird
JESUS CHRIST has set us free
But still, we hold tight to the past
Refusing to let go of a slave’s mentality

We all have been redeemed
Let’s free ourselves from an old slavery
Let’s soar to higher heights
And not be crippled by our pasts.

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
© 2020

BEAUTY

Beauty.
There. The name I call you.
When I think of your romance.
The honey droppings you coo
Taking me to heights of pleasure.
Blissing me out.

Beauty.
The colour of pollen sprinkled
On the ovary of my mind.
When You sigh, when You speak.
Impregnating my soul with little You’s.
Birthing futures untold.

Beauty.
It’s the avatar of Your words
Taking shape, casting shadows
On the walls of my beating heart.
Making my petals into wings
Teaching butterflies in my tummy to dance.

Beauty.
From down in the brooks and rivers
All through the scrolls and letters
As the Great Nebuchadnezzer
Witnessed, No book had ever
Recorded Your fullness. Ever.

Beauty.
There. The name I call you.
When I remember Your intimidating love.
Of how Mighty You are in all things but one.
Your need and desire for me.
Beauty without Flaw.
My Yahweh.

Nonso John
© 2019

Letter to a beloved brother

Behold!
What is ahead beyond all holds
A glory not far-fetched
With a little-more stretch

Behold, Courageous and be bold
As you trend this road
Again! do NOT be told
Of the whale-sized Mack on the road

Along the aisle
Never give yourself to wine
Never bargain your mirror with Mammon
Unto the higher calling-press on!

Standards will rise
Beat up your wings: fly high
When ye fall
Let the strong man stand tall strong

Remember Christ graced your weaknesses
Even in the bashings, crashing and crushing
Take His word ever-bracing
That your bones be strengthened!

Remember Christ the song
For the lost but found
Your help to come
With whom is NO doubt
And upon His wings, you shalt mount

Beloved! in all
Beyond my beseeching lyrics
Rhymes, structures and schemes
Guard up your heart against all ill-schemes

Flee from vices
Against the fears eyes could see
Let not your heart be as the wavering boat on the sea
To your Samson, guard against Madame-disguises

Selah!

Tunde Micheal
© 2019

CHRONICLES OF A DROWNING MIND

Dead zone
Broken soul
Scary shadows
Those are rhythms of a poor old kid
Whose ways never pleased anyone, not even herself.

No hope
Buried grace
Weak for the race
Those are top list words recorded in the word billboard of her mind
She used to be of the royal line
But now goodness turned to lime
She sees God’s intentions as the least
Her faith so rusty and loosen like an abandoned screw
There she becomes a beast that feast with the devil.

Records of heart failures
Impotent to believe the best inside
Drenched with the thoughts of discovery
Draining in the memory lane of no understanding
Tears from the sole of the heart dripping down like flood yet none sees these flood of questions buried in tears

Travelling alone in travail… I weep in smiles…
Because in my green days have I grown grey because am yet to discover the me in me

In silenced smiles I’m drown in fears because my mind has become aged in thoughts

Hold my weeping mind
Embrace my tears in warmth,
Caress me with words of rescue
Carry me in the wings of warmth understanding
For I drown in silence

Oh…save me from this destiny device
For I transit into the groove of eternity
My powerhouse drowns
I plead for restoration if that exist
I seek for redemption for this battle is beyond me

Nonye
The Alchemist
© 2019

Flying shadow

Black bird, d’you wanna fly?
D’you wanna take my blackness with you?
Would you rather take my darkness to the sky?
Or would you stay here too?

I’m caught in the midst of things I don’t wanna do,
Wings to fly I crave but don’t have,
I rend my clothes into halves,
And bare chested I stand in fear of you,

Lend me wings to fly,
No!
Take me with you to the sky,
No!
Heal my broken soul,
No!
Please make me whole,
No!

Flap flap flapped,
And off she went,
Flapped and leaving me a-trapped,
With my back bent,
And my soul sapped,

Black bird said no,
But at the horizon our shadows met,
And at the horizon my shadow flew.

Steven Kator

© 2018

TOMORROW

Tomorrow is priceless,
Like jewels, merchants would love it prized,
As music, it is on everyone’s lips,
I will go there tomorrow,
I’ll finish that book tomorrow,
I’ll make that call tomorrow,
Tick tock! tick tock!! tick tock!!!
The clock never stops singing,
Tasks becomes tall like story buildings,
Because tomorrow never stops coming.

Tomorrow is a dream,
Full of hopes to the brim,
Decorated with beautiful dreams,
That ends up never becoming real,
Tomorrow is a mirage,
It steals away time,life and opportunity.

Tomorrow is pregnant,
Birthing beautiful babies,
Only for ready mothers with flowing breast milk,
Tomorrow is a beauty,
Beheld as a mirror only by those who fulfills their duty,
Like butterflies and rainbow,
Full of colors of shades untold,
Flapping its wings to destinations and heights unknown,
Oh! how prized it is because,
Tomorrow is really expensive.

Tomorrow is an expensive joke
Fueled by procrastination
Driven by falsification
Embalmed by the beautiful aroma of deceit and lies

Tomorrow does not exist
It never comes, neither does it end
It repels redemption and negates hard work
It fans to flames the fires of laziness
And feeds the multitude with the bread of “there is time”

Tomorrow is a thief of time
So make the most of today!
Redeeming the time
Because the days are evil.

Priscy Macq

(c) 2018