THE MOTHER OF MANY NATIONS
She moved with the ease of a queen Causing dis-ease among those who Demanded that true queens wore crowns Of encrusted jewels. Her bracelets and anklets Were of rusted iron, making clinking noises with Each melodic step that she took. Her neck was Long and graceful, having been lengthened by Many a metal collar. She walked with hips swiveling under crude sack Cloth; as if she still balanced baskets upon Her head and babies upon her back. This sensual hip movement proved to be more than Enticing as evidenced by the drunken nightly forays Into the slave quarters which produced yellow babies, Who carried their master's loads, if not their names. She had a proud head wrapped with turbans made from The nothingness of her life; a scrap of this and a scrap Of that. She walked proudly and if one could but listen, They, too, could hear the tinkle of golden bells upon her Ankles and see elaborate charm bracelets upon her wrists. If they could but see, they would behold a bejeweled crown Of pure gold and a treasury of flawless African diamonds. If they could but see, her dusty calloused feet were shod In the finest badger's skin, and her sack cloth garment Transformed into the most magnificent purple and gold Embroidered robe. She would finally be able to sit down on the Throne prepared for her of leopard skin which merely covered A foundation of solid gold. If only they could see, they would have looked into her Dark-brown, ageless eyes, seen centuries of silent suffering Borne only by the great. They would have understood that only
This queen could have possibly rocked the cradle of
Civilization from which all nations are said to have emerged.
Artwork By Artist Nancy Grace
Silenced Voices Speak published in India by cyberwit.net