For Alice Walker
Mama’s Chickens
Sitting with her chickens
she contemplates
their work and their rest
her beingness
blessed by their beingness
holding one golden eyed
golden red feathered hen
in her arms
another one
flies up
perches on the knee of her cotton dress
then settles in to nap
her straw sunhat providing shade
not just for Mama’s chickens
but for the whole world
(imagine sounds of soft clucking
and chicken scratching straw here)
and so I pick one up too
the soft feathered bird
reminding me of sweet childhood.
We speak of childhood
things soft and not so soft
but nothing as soft
as that chicken on Mama’s lap
nesting in the arms
of the Mother
as we all must do
when meditating in the
chickenyard of our lives.
Shiloh Sophia
Have you heard what Alice Walker has been writing about her chickens? http://www.alicewalkersblog.com
