One Stitch After Another Woman To Wo.Man Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

Woman to woman
We make my bridal dress,
Of home made lace.

She shows me needle in hand,
How the hook goes in and out,
Tying knots that make me ask,
If the camel will go through,
The eye of this needle,
When the question about riches,
Is asked of me and him.

I try on the bridal dress, as mother
Puts the finishing touches to it.
Mother, I ask, how did you do
On the question on riches?

Don't get cold feet.
The camel has two humps
If you keep both pairs of hands
On its back it, ceases to
Be rocky and you go through.
Expect the rough ride for
Desert sand goes into your
Eyes, even before you get there,
Where you have to walk your
Camel through that trying place.
Just make sure it is not loade
To fail to go through the eye,
as say the wise people from a
blessed place.

Can I take my jewelery box which
Sings, and has the angelic Black ballerina?
She is the magic charm from my Black heritage.
Don't ask me, I took mine, which is
Why you have it.
You have to take water, for sure,
For a camel does not share its supply.

Now do some stitching while I look,
I push the needdle through, and work
To the end of the last row, happily
As stith by stitch we finish being
Two women, sharing before my final exit.
This last scene ends here.
For I can now see him getting on the
Camel that was lying down,
For this ride I greet with nervous giggles.