Running around sometime around midday
Attending mother’s chores
I remember her whom I never knew
Her who is not
The sister my sister never knew
And I wonder as to what she would have been
Her likeness, her voice, her love, her--
Once again, my thoughts are cut short
As I run to answer mother’s call
The mother of her whom I never knew
Free again
I return to my thoughts
Wondering.
Wondering upon her who is not
Wondering on how she would have been
Wondering about her place in the household I now occupy
Wondering of the how
Of how she would have smiled
Of how she would have laughed
Of how she would have danced
Of how she would have thought
Thoughts also of how she now feels
As her name is now one almost forgotten
Her visuals I never saw
And I hope you do not feel forgotten
For forever are you with us
And again I wonder
Wondering upon the wonders which I have wondered,
As my mind also wanders to memories of wonders witnessed
Wonders hidden in plain sight
Causing me to wonder, as to how such wonders are not seen as the wonders they are.
And that is what you are to me
A wonder
One never to be fully known or understood
And in my selfish selflessness
I wonder as to if your existence would have spelt to me inexistence
Would I be here? there?
Or nowhere.
Oyetayo, Eniola (preferably Oblivion) is a 21-year-old, student of meteorology and climate science in Lagos, Nigeria. He is an Afrocentric creative inspired by the originality of African culture and civilization. When not writing he listens to music, reads novels, and researches history.
You can reach him on Twitter @ankarawhore