Liberian Loving by Janetta Konah won 2nd place in Seek Lib * Sleepless in Monrovia’s Writing Competition.
I often find myself mystified, unable to speak
the words clipped themselves to the tip of my tongue
how do I describe what you feel for me?
when words are inadequate
to express your affection
this passion, that feels as if
it is a never ending circle, as if
it is a thousand magnets pulled together
void of all aversion, vibrating
with the slow steady patience of a clock
this love that hastens your hands to care for my needs
hurries your feet against the hard earth to my help
how do you find the time
to tend to the tenderness of my heart
how do you carry so much weight in your smile
it chases my darkness away
how do you make loving feel easy
as if it is basket weaving
as if it is breathing
as if it is singing the lullabies
of a thousand bird songs sung into one
from the day I began to form
in the warm waters of your womb
you have weaved a complex love around me
vowed with your innermost self to protect me
like an elephant protects its young
you feed me least my belly growls with hunger
you clothed me with the shirt on your back
you love me beyond the conceptions of love
show me a love that surpasses a mother’s love
dare to decipher how deep it goes
to what bottomless depths does it reside
to what unprecedented heights does it rise up
how mysterious it is in its simplicities
her heart hammers at the sound of my voice
she is willing to shed the skin off her bones for me
the years have bent in her back
because she spent them caring for me
shouldering my burdens
turning my misfortunes into fortunes
making pathways through thickets and undergrowth
the wrinkles on her face are the maps
to locate her precious emotions
and the loud softness of her vulnerabilities
she is sad when I’m not glad
she is angry when I’m hurt
she is happy when I’m joyful
from her heart, the wellspring of unending affection
she pours love into me
like the flow of the river into the ocean
I am because she is
yet every day she shows me
through loving-kindness
that she is because I am.
©Janetta Konah