Be a Butterfly

Don’t be a kyatta-pilla
Be a butterfly
old preacher screamed
to illustrate his sermon
of Jesus and the higher life

rivulets of well-earned
sweat sliding down
his muscly mahogany face
in the half-empty school church
we sat shaking with muffling
laughter
watching our mother trying to save
herself from joining the wave

only our father remaining poker face
and afterwards we always went home to
split peas Sunday soup
with dumplings, fufu and pigtails

Don’t be a kyatta-pilla
Be a butterfly
Be a butterfly

That was de life preacher
and you was right

Grace Nichols

♥♥♥

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