LENA HORNE: In Loving Memory

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(The Lena Horne Rememory)

A poem by Kola Boof



There is honey in the honeycomb (eyoun sera)

There is a return; tipping the longing sigh
92 and ready
(Ready to go).

We touch the bottom of your feet, Soule

We your children alight your flight with sickle fire
We your parent hum your song (like blowing food) before
it enters your mouth
We your sisters wipe all tears
We your brothers erase all doubt
We who judged you; cusp the Cobra to our hearts

We your people; are not ready for you to go Soule

But now return; tipping the longing sigh
Rise and do the clap; laugh against the cloud
Everything that was steady...gently awaits
92 and ready

We touch the bottom of your feet, Soule
We hear Sahara songs
We chant: Cyrenaica!
We smell the sweetness of the purple
dying flesh
--tenderly catching ash and bud;
We bless and kiss the sweetness of the
purple dying flesh

We chant: There is honey...in the honeycomb!

We close your eyes (eyoun sera).
So that now; you never die.

We cry. But we smile when the Bee returns.

The bud is throbbing; its gut coagulating blossoms.
Singing wind lashes and curls desert 'round each sunbeam.
The meter is scorching
--like eels your ribbons snake against sand
bringing buk (the sudden stream) of infinite peace.

al Sahra!
al Sahra!

Eyoun sera
(the enchanting eyes)
Illahat al Nasr
(goddess of victory)
(honey suckle child)


There is a field
...and there is a bee
...and the bee knows love.


We needed you.