Your Name/Love/Undoing

by JULIET EZEPUE
in Spring 2022

Ani Lacy, Birthright: William & Wally, 2022

Your Name

Maybe it was the cold. 

I have never liked the easy wind of cold winter days. 

Maybe it was the place. 

I never understood the bewitching charms of Augusta. 

Maybe it was the month. 

I have always ignored the swiftness of February. 

Or maybe it was you. 

Now, I truly wonder if it was you. 

Life for you is so simple, so good. 

You know your name. Olisa, 

God. Yes, you know, it so well, 

but that’s not all. Because I know him too, God. I do. 

And we both want to be his branches and he the vine. 

We both want to remain in him and he in us. 

Like the sun every morning, 

or the wings of eagles rising higher, 

or streams of water flowing in a river, 

or tall trees growing in a forest. 

We want the unending joy of these things

and him taking us to green fields where we rest, 

to streams of water where we drink, 

strength for all this life brings, 

but most of all like your name Olisadubem, 

to guide our feet along the right paths. 

Your name is all you need. 

Your name is…


Love

And when I speak of love, I speak of you. I speak of how you emptied yourself in me, one fine Friday evening and nine months later, we birthed a queen so powerful like the amazons of Dahomey, Queens of Nimo. 

I speak of our boys, all three of them with beauty so numberless, wisdom so endless, that it can only be God. 

When I speak of love, I hear stories of life along a place where crocodiles roam free, you a little boy, roaming free, yet trapped in a world that would rather silence you with brute force. I speak too of the ways you sailed through that life to this. Sailed through joy, sailed through sorrow, and still survived, connected to a higher glory.

See your love, is like an amazing grace, one that found my soul when I was so lost. Your love, is central to my flow, central to all I breakthrough to find my soul, like moments where I fall to the ground with my face to the ground. And when I stand, even though I tremble, your love is there, holding me steady, like a rock. 

Your love is kindness, tenderness, everything in Corinthians, and eternal. Your love is like a tree by streams, with roots near water. Even on days without rain, your love keeps bearing fruits, keeps staying green, never running out, never running dry. 

Your love, this love, will never be moved, not when it’s the very air I breathe. Your love, helped me birth Belles that are dreamers, boys that are artists, and theorists, and mind healers in a world where minds remain in disarray. Ours is a mesmerizing array of perfect love that drives out fear knowing that there is no fear in love. Your love, this love that birthed these words that I speak of, powerful, numberless, endless, glory, rock, eternal, this perfect love is you, God.


Undoing

I imagine

undoing,

ending,

the woman

killing

memories 

of girlhood,

in me,

unafraid,

believing,

in nothing,

just loosening,

trouble,

rustling

pain,

embracing, 

love,

all buried

within,

like snow,

falling

rain,

liberating

my mind

Loving

this day,

I begin,

opening,

to you,

only you,

see

only you

can 

begin this

I imagine,

undoing.


Juliet Ezepue is a storyteller, college professor, mother of four and wife to an incredible frontline worker. She is the author of over 90 academic research papers and a blog where she shares her daily musings on academic productivity and parenting in a global pandemic. Her childhood was divided between Nigeria and the US. Juliet Ezepue lives in Saint Louis, Missouri with her family.

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