Revisiting, Ijeoma
a poem for those with seeking hearts
I originally wrote Ijeoma in August 2021. Sitting on my balcony that afternoon, the words covered the pages of my journal like a prayer begging to be heard. So much was happening around that time — I had just started a new grad program, moved to a new town, and recently stepped down from my position in my church, to mention a few.
Looking back now, I realize I was scared — and excited/curious/partially apprehensive — but still scared of what was to come. I wanted somewhere or something soft to land. Have you felt that before?
In some ways, I feel that the words I wrote below conjured a series of events in my life that I would have never thought possible — but needed.
Ironically, I find myself in a familiar position now almost two years later. New job, new changes in my day to day, though same town, in a “returning to myself, wiser each time” phase of life.
I’ve written before on how Igbo names and their meanings calls things into form and being. And this letter is no different. Destinies, prayers, and petitions enshrine the ones who bear these names, and whose ears hear.
But especially for those of us of the Black Diaspora. Whereever we find ourselves in this “herenow.” Whether already at home or trying to return to what is “home.” From the putting aside of nicknames/something easier to pronounce/palatable forms of ourselves to revisiting prayers towards expansive forms of God — Ijeoma is the recognition that there’s power in being able to name, to declare, to envision, and to create.
Ijeoma is a poem I wrote both honoring the language of my family and a prayer of grace for those seeking communion in periods of the known and unknown.
Daily, these words and I visit each other. Daily, these words take new meaning.
- May each step forward and each step returning be blessed. Ijeoma.
Chinyere
There is a welcoming portal we have when entering our unknowns.
Ijeoma, meaning ‘safe journey’ in the Igbo language, uniquely describes this experience.
Ijeoma. A prayer. A promise. A covenant.
Ijeoma. A knowing that all journeys may not initially be smooth, but so remains our prayer.
Ijeoma. That for the days in which sea-like transitions seem engulfing, smooth & steady shores billow our landing.
Ijeoma, as you take time to unearth the deep-rooted parts of you, previously unknown.
Ijeoma, as new seasons, new months, new ventures, new opportunities, begin.
Ijeoma, as you choose to return to yourself, wiser each time, unashamedly, authentically, freely.
Ijeoma, as multiple voices petition on your behalf when personal prayers are difficult.
May each step forward and each step returning be blessed.
May your days be ever kissed with blessings.
May your nights be filled with restoration.
May grace abound you.
May peace surround you.
Smooth landings. Smooth landings.
Safe journey.
Ijeoma.
Wow. Ijeoma. So beautiful. Thank you.