Adama Poem by Jeffrey Obomeghie

January 15,2014
The day she died
I roamed the world magnificent
Grief strapped to my back
like a mother who refuses to let go of her dead baby

There is a universal truth that we all know
No child survives the death of their mother
The child dies the day the mother dies

But why do I cry so loud
For one mother in a world
that loses mothers daily?
Perhaps it is human nature after all
To think that our pain is the greatest of all
Perhaps it is the cross of martyrdom that allows us to go on
The feeling that we must be special
because of all we have been through

The day she died
Flocks of birds fell from their hide
Impaled by grief
the wind wailed in disbelief
And in a land not so distant
A strange comet streaked in the sky, constant
like a dart from the bow of a drunken god
Sharp, like the tongue of a cattle prod

From far and wide they came to commiserate
Talked and talked until I started to hallucinate

The world had never seen one like her, they said
The world would never see another like her, they said
The world could not go on without her,
they said

Because the truth is cruel, we are all entitled to our own lies
And the truth is that the day she died
The world did not even notice
that the greatest woman who had ever lived was dead
And the world kept spinning on its axis