Today marks the
birthing of our womb The womb of our rod and throne The
throne of our emergence as victors And the victory we freely
wield As
the authority and dominion holders of the earth As granted us by Calvary blood
Today, crest raised
towards heaven and graciously perched With tightly gripping talons and webbed feet At the peak of the city hills As though in the
spike of the church of Rome Is our queen of songs, Mummy Chinwe Ejiofobiri Teasing
the strings of her urbane violin And nudging our king on to gallantry In
rightful purpose and duty and crown With
songs of the pure soul, Mother Theresa Lyrics
of the brave heart, Malala And
mutterings of solitary nuns and monks As
we honour and celebrate her.
Thank you for choosing
to come today Our dearest songstress Of pretty, virtuous and diligent fingers Even as we
giggle and chatter and clatter and gorge your melody Thank you for
being the executor of our home The
home of our lion hearted and elephant tusked
king, your husband Thank
you for letting him enter his rest Thank
you for the escapades and victories Wrought
by your sonorous songs Among
the champions and children of ACE. Thank you for the
long, wide wings and feathers of your shelter for us.
If God’s blessings and
beauty, grace and good health, Peace and
prosperity, joy and generosity, Favour
and influence, anointing and dominion, Love and strength are enough Then that’s our humble prayer for you This day of your coming.
Happy birthday, mother.
Ekemba Dawkin (self)
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