Ibiang Ayei
@ayeiibiang080407
1 year ago

THE MENDER'S HANDS

Your eyes spoke your mind to us;
Lids,
muttering an oratory of words
Batting with a flutter;
Lashes,
whipping at the back of our minds
till the
message pierced through our subconscious
like daggers and swords

We got your point easily,
and that's because
you never failed in hitting the nail on the head;
Your knuckles were hammers,
driving
the "well-strapped" wisdom into the thickest of family skulls;
Breaking the potsherd of childish foolishness,
and
ramming into our hardened brick walls

A child's folly,
hewn into the portrait of
“the-new-generation-children" easily charged
on the grounds that they don't greet
- the dent and our collective flaws

But not our mother!

Her eyes were a furnace heated to melt all dross,
so stony hearts didn't even as much as
stand a chance
cos they were already seated in piety, and
as quietly as they possibly could

For who could dare this lioness of a woman that I called my mum?
Who could muster such guts against
a woman
who could knock you out both cold and numb?


She was both law and judge
...and often times
executioner
- the book, the gavel and a guillotine so operational
A very austere old woman she was,
always keeping the blade sharp
- filing those canes on our noncompliant bodies till we swore:
"it'll never happen again!"
She exhumed that latent spirit of remorse with every crack

Mama,
you were slender yet never brittle;
Never cracking under pressure;
Small-sized yet never little;
Walking dauntlessly,
...the business of mending
always coming before pleasure

You were the true definition of discipline,
at least
those steel gauntlets you call hands confirmed it
So the will to even disobey remained very unwilling still,
cos it was knocked out of our heads at the slightest perception
For there isn't a child dead or alive who couldn't be mended by you
And there is none living who hasn't lived
to say: "I am grateful!"


***




Written by: Ibiang, Ayei Okoi
Saturday, 26th June, 2021.
5:54am
#Aï
#Nirclestories
#Poetry