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Before Anointment

Before Anointment

By Yvanna Vien Tica 

For King David

You are a boy

         who will grow into a man. In all the stories

                I read about you, I wait

for the whisper of your mother’s lullaby, whether

         you remembered her song

                as she swam into the afterlife,

or if she died before history

         could name her.

                I see

no mention of her song before the prophet

         anointed you, before your father called you

                least of your brothers, a shepherd

who sang

         to the sheep, to the grass and rocks

                knocking them from inside. Where did you learn

to string a harp and cover your tongue

         with gentle alphabets

                like the grief of a dove watching

his mate’s slaughtered carcass on an altar?

         From aleph to taw, you cry out

                for a mother’s mercy

from a God for whom you spilled

         the lives of the sheep you guarded.

                But look up.

Even if someday, when you are king,

         you will drag Goliath’s sword

                across the brick tower of his neck

with the same hands you used

         to caress a lamb

                in its final moments before sacrifice,

history promises that you will still yearn

         for something softer than an arrow’s spine,

                and your tongue will once again taste

the slow, swimming voice your mother gave you,

         blessed you with,

                in the twilight of her days.

Yvanna Vien Tica is a Filipina writer who grew up in Manila and in a suburb near Chicago. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in EX/POST Magazine, DIALOGIST, Hobart, and Shenandoah, among others. She edits for Polyphony Lit, reads for Muzzle Magazine, and tweets @yvannavien. In her spare time, she can be found enjoying nature and thanking God for another day.

This Post Has 4 Comments

  1. Vivian Tica

    Beautiful poem. Congratulations, Anak!

  2. Rose

    Beautiful. Praising God for your gift of Poetry. Keep it up.

  3. daddy Weh

    Nice

  4. Ebenimzer

    This is a different, yet appropriate, perspective on David. The seeming silence on the sacred pages about David’s mother may, indeed, not have been silent at all as she may have been reflected in David’s life-giving Psalms. If David wrote Psalm 139, he must have thought deeply of his mom! Thank you, Yvanna, for this poem. You must have an excellent Proverbs 31 mother, too. God bless you.

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