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The Elephant

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I am The Elephant-capital T, capital E.
I am H-E-R, the actualized, the realized,
The one that embodies the fierceness of the feminine.

I am the carrier of our history—
Our journeys, births, and losses—
And I am the monument of our future.

I am the grumble you hear miles away,
The deep resonating vibration of Home,
The one calling you—
“Here I am. Come to me if you are lost.”

I am the trunk that strokes your ailing back,
That bathes you with the cooling waters of an oasis
In the midst of the African summer,
The one that nudges you forward and rebukes your ignorance.

I am the trumpet that sounds out warnings and terrifies lions.
“You shall not pass!” I bellow
And they turn—indignant—back to their dens.

I am the descendent of The Great Ones,
Our predecessors who whispered into my pancake ear,
Saying, “Lead them.”

I am the folds of skin that hold the dust of our inheritance
and the pile of bones that nourishes the soil of our legacy.
I am the one they bow down before,
The one they call mother.

I am The Elephant.



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