Updated: Jan 17, 2022
What if the clothes on your back told a story? In prose or the verse of a song? If the cotton you don had a tongue, Would it speak of pain or glory?
“Clothes don’t speak,” you say, I beg to differ. But ‘dress how you want to be addressed’ is not my message today, It’s something much, much deeper.
I met a jacket sometime after February, In her brightness, she looked like the sun. And though our meeting was a few months gone, Today, for the first time, she spoke to me.
She told me of power, Found in a much overlooked place. Because she spoke in that hour, Of a line of women whose blood flows in my veins.
She told me of matriarchs. Children on hips of queens, Wiping the sweat off their dark skin as they sing, working, Only to then be removed from the story arc.
She told me of mothers, Watching, toiling, praying, For their sons and daughters, An entire generation.
She told me of strength, When the expectations of others could not be met. Of joy in pain, though it makes no sense. Of faces forced into smiles- resilience.
And she told me I could find, The beauty of the Almighty in His creation, Again, incomprehensible to my mind: Suffering and glory fused into one.
“Woman,” the jacket said, “Fix your crown, hold up your head. You were created with a mountain of a role; And though many think you weak, you are strong; mind, body and soul.”
Thanks to Sola Olowo-Ake of ‘KOA’ for sharing her inspirations (and pictures) with me.
Check out her website here: https://kehindeolowoake.weebly.com/