To time the womb delightfully received
Professed fetus, by scientific men
And field of constant kicks, mama believed
Times fed through the navel-straw:
Do you behold the memory?
Of kicks, no cares, her gut to claw?
…You can’t remember to tell the story!
In there, do you see bright bulbs, or dark?
Before the world’s main lights;
You do, for the next, engrave a mark?
Of bequest and fetus’ rites
But I see: no man can tell of his birth
Nor memories of suckling the nipples;
The time, he got his first show of earth
And the wavy smiles on mama’s dimples
I roved my throne and reigned in her
If therein, darkness and boredom be
Or lights and a glowing star
But then I grew, always there to see;
The coming of another child!
Written by: Stephen Crøwn Gyet
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
