Ala: (The Womb Of The World) Poem by Emeka GOC

Ala: (The Womb of the World)


Great Mother of the fertile soil,
Who crowns the farmer's patient toil,
the keeper of punishment and justice
of Ofo na Ogu enforcers of judgement and justice
From your deep breast the green herbs rise,
Reaching upward toward the skies.


The giver of the fruits of womb and Sowers seeds
The golden yam, the chief life-giving seed) s,
Ahiajoku bow to you for his people needs
Are born of you to meet our needs
Guardian of culture and traditions
Odinala, na Omenala of a creed, a sacred law.


We bow before your throne in awe
With Kola nuts and Alligator pepper we appease
With surugede we dance and merry with Palm wine to please
Alas, What thou shalt not, thou shalt not, whereas
Ekwe, Ogene and Oja, we dance to the music of the earth Ala
You watch our steps, you judge our deeds,
You root out vice and wicked weeds.


No mortal hand can hide its stain
Only on the arm of the flesh we cannot exist
From where your holy laws holy remain.
The silent river Njaba python glides your floor,
A sentinel at your temple door.
Within the villages, come and centered
At Mbari's clay-wrought walls,
Your ancient, heavy spirit calls.


First daughter of Great Chukwu's light,
You rule the day, you guard the night.
When thunderous Amadioha speaks,
Gliding the sphere with blitz perfection
And rain pours down on mountain peaks,
The sky embraces your soft embrace,
your glued to your soft love and generosity
To bring forth life to every race.


And when our mortal breath is fled,
You hold the spirits of the dead
Back to the womb of earth we go,
Where silent, holy rivers flow.
Oh, gentle, fierce, and timeless ground,
In you, our soul and breath are bound.

Could that be an illusion
Or and un-answered question
What happens when we are gone
Answer please when you are done