From The Marrow Of My Dying Bone Poem by Sicelo Sithole

she came unto the remembrance of all the history resting still across her mind
through this window offering her the view of the scars upon the lands of her
ancestors
she walked nakedly towards the tomb of her free womb and true being
with a still voice she sounded…
“I heard
all the words waking from my lost echoes, religion and origins…
they were surely a true mystery
voicing deep down, from the marrow of my dying bone…