I do not marvel at the gifts God has given to me.
The ones He has given to others are so magnificent;
And kings and queens of all nations,
Intellectuals and thinkers,
Generals and commanders,
Gather to marvel at their works.
The gifts they have are seen by all,
Where can they see mine?
Can they go to my heart to
Share my joy when my father laughs,
Or my sorrows when my mother cries?
They will never see me listen to a friend,
Or hear me tell a child or a peer to stop doing a wrong.
They might never see the glorious morning dawn or the brightest night sky
I could never draw – or take a picture of.
They will never be able to go into my mind to look at it over and over again,
Like the works of the great painters hanging on walls.
They too might never hear the greatest harmony’s of nature’s creatures
I heard unexpectedly one day –
A gift from God when I was down
To tell me not to worry
As all His creatures are just praising Him.
They might also never know all the advices God has given me;
So numerous (from different sources, even children), I cannot even remember.
I should have written them down –
They could challenge the works of the great philosophers.
Why don’t I marvel at my gifts; but get jealous over the ones of others?
I suppose it is my underlying human nature to be exalted above all others –
To achieve beyond…so much God sees us, everybody sees us.
And the bad and the evil in me disappear and goodness can only be manifested.
But that will never be.
I have to be content with
The feelings of my mother and my father, the worries of my friend, the questions of my younger ones.
My works can only be for me to see.
I can only say to someone:
‘Have you witnessed the most glorious of dawns, have you heard nature’s harmony, have ever you heard God talk?’
Maybe they might say no or yes.
But they would never know what I saw and heard.
I can only marvel at my gifts,
Especially at night as I dream
When all of them make one of the greatest stories that will never be told.
Adaudo Anyiam-Osigwe from her book of poems – A Little Understanding: Poems from the End of Childhood to the Beginning of Adulthood