Ìmè̟è̟kó̟ sitting within sacred groves,
resident in the shield of Ilé fe
from yonder plains.

Home is àkàrà pulsating in ogi,
láfún spread in welcome for ẹ̀gúsí;
it’s wàrà littering teeth at noon.

Home is the call to prayer at dawn,
it’s Mami traveling the labyrinth of sweat
beneath her burden of love,
knees black from kissing the altar.

Home is dew from her descent,
heavy in rosary garlands,
the dooring of tears within her wrappers,
the cocooning mint within her borders.

Home is where the mockingbird ceases,
and the queen of the savannah emerges,
the gathering of chicks beneath their mother,
it’s the cooling within these walls.

Home is our oríkì igniting our paths,
the scuttling of adversaries beneath bejeweled nights,
it’s gẹlẹdẹ masked ancestors dancing bọ̀lọ̀jọ̀,
the passing of the torch, from there to here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Thanh Luu from Pexels