ANCESTRAL MOTHER ANCESTRAL MOTHER
Why the kingdom of African savannah is invisible,
when is all plain governed by sun?
Not only it is African, so in the imagery
it spans through the worlds we invent.
I will tell you why, from my perpetual vision:
because netting reach lion that dares to sleep,
naive and full trust by others fed.
The crouching lion pulls his great mane
under lost baobabs, made of pure ash.
While in the blazing night, watchful lionesses
hunt, vibrate, they are not dead,
assume they must live, always on four paws.
Rarely convinced that they must rest calmly
that’s not allowed even by soil where they walk.
They force themselves to be visible, to conquer their currency,
to remember the times in which they reigned without restrictions,
those times have passed yet, they are memories becoming shreds,
but they collect them all to recompose new power,
army of sure females, sure of balance,
they have to shelter under their thin heads
a whole world of the future, still a naive puppy.
But they’re always aware, they sleep with one eye open,
the lions follow in their footsteps, and they mark the time,
the paths to follow, do not fear the discovery,
although in that effort they leave the mourning of their own dead.