Born Inside A Kangaroo Pouch Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

I sit inside the warmth of the kangaroo
And look at the world I am going to be
Born into.

I see trees swaying in the wind and winter
Fires igniting and burning huts that I am
To put out.

I hear talk of an independence of Africa
I must be a part of it for the drum is beating
In nearby villages.

I learn the dance and move my tiny hands
Faking a dance choreographed by the movements
Of a kangaroo.

I hear the world calling me to come and be
A part of something great that has no name
So I search for the name in the darkness
That connects my umbilical cord to the nerves.

I come out holding power in two words that
Make me learn a language I can get at the

World of silence I lived in untouched
and call it a mama papa world and then
Begin to tell the world how happy I am to be
In this beautiful place.

I look around me and see toddlers like me
Who tell me stories of incubators human
And I see they cannot jump like me and
I thank God for being born inside the
Kangaroo pouch for these are the cleverest
Mothers on earth for like prophets they
Take ypur story and bag it and take it
Everywhere to the sound of a Maori drum.