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FROM GRASS TO GRACE

FROM GRASS TO GRACE

As a bouncing baby lass

I came on one chilly dawn

The fading moon smiling at me

Giving credence to blessings and prosperity

But the inevitable creature

Took away the prime parts of me

When the main parts die

The sub-parts fall off,  wilt and crush

What a callous world

The world that sent my roots to decay

The world that pierced my heart

…………and cast me adrift

…………from bliss,  gaiety

………..to pensive melancholy

And now this is me

A rag under the feet

……of the highest throne

Bowing to sons and daughters of royals

Rushing responses to harsh commands

Days were quick

……and nights even shorter

By subornation and incursion

Blood of son of  royals

Enters blood of daughter of slaves

PARAMOUR: that’s what I am to the Prince

And now the barrel is full of water

Water that golden fish swim-wander

Fish with blood of royals and slaves

Blood of different vessels

O how I hate myself

How possible

…..that this rusted leaking barrel

Holds water to the fullest?

Isn’t this an abomination?

Hmmm…. but custom demands its place

And the sower has accepted the harvest

The river into which the hook is thrown

From same river the hook traps a fish

As earth paces round the sun

The queen’s regalia embrace me up

And her crown kisses my head

And beside the highest  throne I sit

What is this?

Wasn’t I supposed to bow?

Why then am I bowed?

Dream, should I call it?

Grace, should I guess?

Divine intervention, should I say?

This, I call it ‘FROM GRASS TO GRACE’!

 

©✍️Kaakyire Caleb

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