i sowed.   i sowed seeds.   i saw no roots but believed i would see something soon.  

i sowed love to see it.   what to do with love?   compassion also requires seeding.   what is seed if it never grows?   what is healing when stitching something ugly?   ugly grows too.   so many seeds scattered.   seeds lacking coats.   good and bad seeds.   bruised.   abused.   accused.   degraded, the wind ate them.   i sowed.   you sowed.   we sowed.  

so many wars in the wind.   beetles seeding tons of hate and revenge.   birds drop weapons.   something beautiful grows ugly.   the climate fevers.   icebergs sink.   the desert storms.   insects extinct.   the land dries.   the seed dies.   we uproot.   no archives.  

ancestors resurrect.   cemeteries are seed vaults.   seeds in bodies.   seeds in cornrows.   seeds hemmed in shrouds.   seeds spat out.   the land remembers.   mycelium assists.   it’s a sowing network.   ancestors stand guard.   i sow.   you sow.   we sow.   our second arriving.  

germination is willed.   seedlings emerge.   we sow redemption   recovery   stability   peaceful people.   do you see, Seed?   sowed upon ancestral care you rise.   new shoots upward to the future of sentients.

Incantation for the Farmer

The worker, the farmer, the land keeper, the soil tiller, the planter, the roots homemaker, the hoe bender, the seed prayer, the feeding divine, the blessing in famine times—from the scorching sun, come and rest. Under the baobab tree, rest. Charm the land to fill with water. Drink. Drink from the calabash. Replenish your sweat. Sate the glistening pores in your body. The trained tightness of your skin is enviable. Your calloused hands are magical wands for flinging a hoe. May your skill save us from scarcity. Save us. Fling the hoe in the air. Place a song in the mid-air. Curate your spine into a splendid curve. Your ribcage holds. Your bending holds. Your hands hold. Lower the note with a fertile spell. Bewitch us with a symphony of toil. Dig in your soil witchery. Charm the land to flourish. Feed and nourish us with your sweaty hymns. You are a god in famine times. Come out from the clouds of anonymity. Come out from the shaming altars erected for the rural life and colonial structures. Descend your blessings to the starving cities and suburbs. Raise the soil and dust as your angels’ fleet. Bring okra, eggplants, tomatoes, onions, carrots, amaranth, pumpkins, yams, and cassava in a winnow basket. Bring maize, millet, sorghum, teff, and rice in a pot basket. Bring the sugarcane in a cart. Bring mangoes, oranges, bananas, avocadoes, papayas, pineapples, tamarinds, jackfruits, custard apples, and coconuts in a sack. Bring groundnuts, cashew nuts, and kola nuts in your pockets. Feel noble wearing your perspiration and riding your exhaustion. Arrive unharmed with your abundance. Stand tall before us, the starving eaters. Place your spine. Grant us your nobility as a planter. Hold the hoe as your ruling insignia. Deem us worthy of your toil. Reveal the respect you bear for the land. Teach us to refrain from the greed for land. Without you, we are a living bland flesh. Without you, the land eats us.