Poem: Dance to my Identity
February 27, 2026
Collage created by Finn Souter with images from Pixabay
Sheena Igbiri senses many aspects of her inspirational heritage echoing within
As I dance to my identity
I hear the dialect of Kings, Queens and Rulers
Chanted in tuneful incantations
The vibrations of the voice are best in the tongue of the native.
Let the tribal chords imbed themselves in you
Let the notes which have been carved into the brains of many,
resonate within you
The pulses of the tune
As often as a being breathes.
There is a moment where the noise ceases, and the agony stops
And during this moment
I am walking.
And I look up to the sky
Obscured by leaves
Letting rays of sunshine pivot through
And cartwheel on my skin.
I inhale tainted air into tainted lungs
And I long for well-being
I look for reassurance
And as the wind courses through my ears
Passing through me.
A calming, soaring, swaying feeling envelops me
The whistle of the wind is beautiful.
