I wanted a new me, so I made you
out of desperation for my rebirth. 
Your shrill cries lit the dark room of my heart. 
With your little hands, you grabbed life by its scruff.
Your tears cascaded into an open ocean,
a portal to worlds where second chances bud.
I longed to hold you, my ticket to freedom, 
but I was afraid I might crush you and
whatever promise you held. 
Fragile yet resilient, you moved mountains 
en route to the sea of light
with a frame that belied your power.
Strength, you taught without saying a word. 
Your tiny form breathed essence into me,
and you became my muse in human form.
You fed me wisdom, teaching me to care               
for others when I had little to spare. 
I laughed, cried, and cracked my facades
from the emotions your presence elicited.
I will water you till you attain full form, 
like the lunar sickle
time waters to full bloom. 
Grow and prosper, my grain of hope, 
for a better morning awaits those who dare.

About the author:

Qudus Ishola is an emerging writer and engineering geologist based in Lagos, Nigeria. He is dedicated to sharing his thoughts and perspectives with the world through poetry and is currently working on his debut collection of poems. He is a self-professed heretic, pan-Africanist, and sports enthusiast.

Feature image by Charly Álvarez on Unsplash