African Eve
Africa, mother, land of humanity's birth,
home to the eons that span the journey from
animal to human, mother to daughter, generation to generation,
surviving, loving, birthing the next link in a chain
that stretches back into our far past.
Back to that female who followed her mate out of the trees and down
to that grassy splendor she had been taught to fear her whole life,
Imagined beasts hiding in the walls of grass that surround her,
enclosing her, her heart stopping with fear
at every whisper of the grasses in the wind.
She stands on her lower limbs
unaccustomed to the need to walk erect,
She turns once to gaze behind her,
searching for one last glimpse of home.
Then turning and joining her tribe,
with her old mother, sisters, daughters, aunts, nieces and cousins,
surrounding her as she follows her mate as he lead them out into
those endless eternal grasslands,
and on to a future that was as mysterious to her
as ours is to us.
Mystery's of the universe,
life, death, suffering, pain,
birth and rebirth, from existence to non existence,
the wheel of life turns on a spindle
the base of which is the mystic law of cause and effect.
It is as unavoidable as the law of gravity,
as eternal as the dance of atoms with
orbiting electrons spinning around a nucleus,
as undenible as the circling of the earth around the sun,
and as inevitable as birth and life being followed by death.
Ages pass and generation to generation each mother gifts her daughters
with her unique tie back to the past
to our ancestral mothers and into the future,
passing from each daughter to her daughter to her's after that.
Keeping alive the chain that reaches back
to that fearful creature who descended from the trees,
to live in the womb of mother Africa,
until the day when the hunger of her descendant's children
led them to another shore.
And when that day came, that day when the motherland is left behind,
One woman with her sisters, and daughters set forth on an odyssey
that would leave her descendants the mothers of every race and nation,
outside mother Africa. This is our African Eve,
first in that ancient line
who departed the birthplace of the human race,
that cradle of civilization for the unknown.
The African Eve and her daughters journeyed to the shore above the red sea
to walk across the land bridge and into a new world.
Some of her daughters stayed to build homes in each new land,
others are driven to see what's over the next horizon
With each generation the young sisters and daughters
journeyed farther and farther away from the motherland.
Discovering new wonders, dreaming new dreams,
building a life far from home,
watching our daughters pass on to their daughters
a new land to call their own.
From almond eyes to palest blue, to eyes lined with kohl
From oiled hair,and hennaed scalps, curly,kinky or straight,
its many shades of colors, black, brown, blond or red
each as beautiful in its way as the variety of our skins
dressed in saris and sarongs, caftans or kimonos,
in camisoles and corsets, in skirts and trousers too
or even tunics over pantaloons,
All made of each lands treasure
silk, satin, linen, or lace,
From the top of her head to the tip of her toe,
from birth to old age every woman shaped by her own land
is a descendant of that Africa Eve.
Two millenniums worth of connection with each other,
caring and sharing with one another,
sister to sister bound by gender and gene.
Eons of women, daughters and then mothers in turn
bound together through this genetic connection
with our African mother.
To me, this is Myoho sisterhood.
home to the eons that span the journey from
animal to human, mother to daughter, generation to generation,
surviving, loving, birthing the next link in a chain
that stretches back into our far past.
Back to that female who followed her mate out of the trees and down
to that grassy splendor she had been taught to fear her whole life,
Imagined beasts hiding in the walls of grass that surround her,
enclosing her, her heart stopping with fear
at every whisper of the grasses in the wind.
She stands on her lower limbs
unaccustomed to the need to walk erect,
She turns once to gaze behind her,
searching for one last glimpse of home.
Then turning and joining her tribe,
with her old mother, sisters, daughters, aunts, nieces and cousins,
surrounding her as she follows her mate as he lead them out into
those endless eternal grasslands,
and on to a future that was as mysterious to her
as ours is to us.
Mystery's of the universe,
life, death, suffering, pain,
birth and rebirth, from existence to non existence,
the wheel of life turns on a spindle
the base of which is the mystic law of cause and effect.
It is as unavoidable as the law of gravity,
as eternal as the dance of atoms with
orbiting electrons spinning around a nucleus,
as undenible as the circling of the earth around the sun,
and as inevitable as birth and life being followed by death.
Ages pass and generation to generation each mother gifts her daughters
with her unique tie back to the past
to our ancestral mothers and into the future,
passing from each daughter to her daughter to her's after that.
Keeping alive the chain that reaches back
to that fearful creature who descended from the trees,
to live in the womb of mother Africa,
until the day when the hunger of her descendant's children
led them to another shore.
And when that day came, that day when the motherland is left behind,
One woman with her sisters, and daughters set forth on an odyssey
that would leave her descendants the mothers of every race and nation,
outside mother Africa. This is our African Eve,
first in that ancient line
who departed the birthplace of the human race,
that cradle of civilization for the unknown.
The African Eve and her daughters journeyed to the shore above the red sea
to walk across the land bridge and into a new world.
Some of her daughters stayed to build homes in each new land,
others are driven to see what's over the next horizon
With each generation the young sisters and daughters
journeyed farther and farther away from the motherland.
Discovering new wonders, dreaming new dreams,
building a life far from home,
watching our daughters pass on to their daughters
a new land to call their own.
From almond eyes to palest blue, to eyes lined with kohl
From oiled hair,and hennaed scalps, curly,kinky or straight,
its many shades of colors, black, brown, blond or red
each as beautiful in its way as the variety of our skins
dressed in saris and sarongs, caftans or kimonos,
in camisoles and corsets, in skirts and trousers too
or even tunics over pantaloons,
All made of each lands treasure
silk, satin, linen, or lace,
From the top of her head to the tip of her toe,
from birth to old age every woman shaped by her own land
is a descendant of that Africa Eve.
Two millenniums worth of connection with each other,
caring and sharing with one another,
sister to sister bound by gender and gene.
Eons of women, daughters and then mothers in turn
bound together through this genetic connection
with our African mother.
To me, this is Myoho sisterhood.