ubuntu

thoughts while holding a baby in my village

i asked 

for holes 

in the palms 

of my hands

i received you

i sought 

holes 

through the soles 

of my feet

i found you

i knocked 

on the door 

for a hole 

in my side

you answered me

little

baby

under

the baobab tree

the holy stigmata

in the poverty and riches

of our village 

where suffering and love 

are whole in the brokenness

listening to you

i hear

looking at you

i see 

loving you

i understand

i am

because

we are