Worshipping Julia

I found God one day

In the broken alleys and dark streets

Of a rundown neighbourhood bay

Beside the smelly factory pits

She was a little girl with eyes like stars

And little flies seemed attracted to them

Her skin was mottled with red-black scars

Lubricated by nothing but nosy phlegm

Her nails resembled broken shards of clay

Craggy, brittle – like the cloak on her little back

Her dark hair hung loosely as if to say

We have had nothing all day – except lack

Gusty whispers of the wind echoed

In her empty stomach – the cage within

And she shook a little as the clouds bellowed

The icy showers like a bag of sin

Her forlorn eyes searched mine longingly

Knees rattling under the stained polythene container

Where is my worship, she said seemingly

A rat strutted by – as if to disdain her

.

So I, wet and moved, fell to my knees

And worshipped the God I had found:

I pulled off my sweater from Tiffany’s

As she watched keenly without a sound.

Slowly, I wrapped her in my cold warmness

Her arms weighing no more than a feather

And lifted her unto my wet dress

As we stood motionless under the weather

Her muddy feet hung loosely under my left arm

Her hairy head rested limply on my shoulder

I could see a slimy worm without harm

Entangled in her hairy locks, colder

Suddenly she shuddered violently

And I began to be scared

So I ran through the wet streets hurriedly

And hailed a cab that fared

I could feel her small heart within

As I raged to open my door

I placed her gently on my mattress thin

Almost tumbling on the floor

An hour later, she was washed and fed

And put away under a blanket

She seemed peaceful without a word said

As I read her a story about Hamlet

‘Julia...how ‘bout I call you Julia?’ I whispered

As her little eyes shuttered off to sleep

She beamed a soft smile as I kissed her

On her forehead – a memory I’ll always keep

Morning came with a bright sun

I joyfully jumped off of my bed

Only to find the reason gone

For Julia was already dead

The doctors took her body lame

They said it was a bad case of pneumonia

They asked me, teary eyed, for her name

I called her my little Julia

I found her by the factory pits

The abandoned places of death

A voice of silence without wits

Deserted soon after birth

But in my little Julia girl

I found a mystery hidden

Like a thirsty leaf in a windy whirl

A divine story bidden

I sought a God in power’s sway

I sought a God in glory’s way

I sought a God in thunderous play

But I found my little Julia today

I found a cup instead of creeds

I found a weary traveller with tales of good deeds

I found a rag on a hag with needs

I found seeds in the stead of trees

I found a girl sickly and with starry eyes

That attracted little dirty flies

I found wounds that worms could despise

And a place where every flower dies

I found a temple without candles

A foreign light that filled the hall 

I found a door with broken handles

A journey to a compelling call

It’s been three years since Julia left me

Three years since she smiled in her sleep

I still pause so I can clearly see

The way she peacefully wandered into the deep

And though I miss this God that came my way

I now jump off my bed with much care

Knowing whenever I walk a poor neighbourhood bay

I shall find many other Gods there.

Bayo Akomolafe (2009)