To Borrow The Wisdom Ofthe Praying Mantis Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

I speak and wish standing on two,
Legs with no wings. My message
Moves from person to person,
Slower than gossip. I spice
My stories with juicy bits,
From queens of the courts.
But still lack the wisdom,
To make my self seen and
Heard for people would
Long have heard of me,
And called me the praying poet.

What did the mantis do to get
The verb I so desire to precede
The likes of me? For if people
Knew, I was a praying poet, they
Would read my words and live,
Even before I tell them, to
Read my lips.


Imagine a world where I would,
Have the power of the rabbi,
And have everybody confessing,
Their sins into the air in which,
I would fly on the wings, of the
Praying mantis. It is not envy
To desire the slim torso, with
The hour glass of a figure, that
Never changes. Imagine me with
Hands in prayer kneeling, at the
Alter of time with no obituary,
To write but the honor to be
Called a praying poet, when I
Am just wearing an honorary
Title, that hangs loose around
My name, for I have never prayed
For nobody, but just uttered
A few expletives that tell
Everybody I am a praying poet.

How can the world honor medeaocre
Actions when here are ones, that
Are so clean and sincere, they
Can only be described in superlatives?


I am still waiting at the shrine,
Of the Black Madonna pressing,
My hair and hoping this tittle,
Will come with the ease with which,
I run the comb through my hair,
And acquire the wisdom of the
Praying mantis. What can a
Poet do to be known around
The world, as the woman of
Prayer when the likes of
Insects green and brown,
Have taken the only word
I crave and claimed it,
When they have never done,
Even as much as utter one word?

Next time you see the insect,
With the credentials I crave, tell it
It would do better with
Just one visit to the confession
Window, for that would mean
It has the humility, to seek
Penance for dressing itself
In borrowed robes, for if I
See it first, I will invite it
To a duel, and fight tooth and
Nail, with my bladed pen, for it
Is the sword I am sharpening,
For this encounter that will,
Come in the foreseeable future,
For I am keeping my fingers crossed.