Bridges Out of Babylon

1) Enough of sad songs, enough tears on the piano, 
Our pitch had cracked from singing gloomy high keys and soprano,
We sang of forgotten rivers and springs, of kings and locals,
Each note struck a chord, straining our vocals.

2) We were the crows, who perched on burning trees,
Looking across vast seas, in search of peace,
But God whispers through the storm, “my child, be still”
His voice cuts through the chaos and bends our will, 

3) We are tired of singing dirges for the living, 
Our throats are burned from charcoaled elegies instead of thanksgiving,
Tonight, we lift our hands like Moses at the Red Sea,
The same God who parted the waters will set our souls free,

4) We will float joyful hymns on seas like paper boats,
With drumbeats echoing as the Spirit carries our notes, 
On wavelengths as wild as the fire of the Pentecost towards heaven’s crescendo,
Our prayers will survive, our praises will echo, 

5) Just like in songs, our voices will form, 
Bridges out of Babylon, riding in every storm,
We will cross over like Joshua into promised joy, we will set the tune, 
A melody to the melancholy, rising with God’s grace under the full moon,

6) We will let the music heal us and the land we come from,
Like David’s harp soothed Saul, our songs shall overcome,
In the morning, joy will come as weeping endures only for a night,
The Lord God will turn our tears into dancing with delight in his sight.

All Good Things Come from God

All good things around us are sent from heaven above, O thank the Lord for all His love.

– A&M 483

1) We ploughed and scattered the good seeds on the field,
He sent microwatts of ultraviolet rays to give life to the seeds,
And sent the rains like ice pellets to obliterate the dust,
Like love washing away remnants of crusty browns of sinful rust,

2) Like Abel, I culled the best fur from the woolly grail,
And prepared a porridge with Jacob’s recipe and shots of ale laced with praise,
Like Jim Reeves, I thanked Him for the flowers that bloomed in spring,
Tethered to the rhythm, I pulled at His Purkinje fibres by plucking harp strings,

3) I prayed my praises be ladders that form the stairway to heaven,
Littered at the empyreal tapestry like the sweet smelling incense of Aaron,
Praise be to God who patents our daily bread with layers of butter,
And understands the silence in the heaviness of words we can’t utter,

4) Obedience is better than sacrifice but to obey is to sacrifice a tenth,
A tenth of all my silver and gold is a widow’s mite of pence,
All I have raised to the blue skies are my hands and olive palms,
Forming red carpets as the glory descended on the chants of my psalms,

5) My soprano sotto voce, lush like the grapes of the Bordeaux,
Melted over me like velvety chocolate serenading hallways of the chateau,
Eyes salty, with budding goose bumps, basking in the shadow of adoration,
Thumping with the percussion, drumbeats of gyration and godly elation,

6) My heart leaped for joy when they said to me; let us praise God in Zion,
I crossed the rivers of Babylon and my feet are deeply rooted at the gates of iron,
Give thanks to God, who gives us all good things we see,
For all things bright and beautiful and blessings for those who believe.

Chidera Udochukwu is a Nigerian-Igbo writer and pharmacist. She won the 2025 Iskanchi Magazine Prize for her story “User Not Found” and the 2025 LIGHT Letters Writing Contest. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Lemonwood Quarterly, Blanket Gravity Magazine, Jay Lit, PREE Magazine, Harriet’s House Magazine, Carmalarky Journal, and elsewhere. Her writing has also been recognized by the Dissolution Climate Essay Prize, the Bloody Parchment Horror Competition, the Akachi Chukwuemeka Prize for Literature, the Ikenga Short Story Prize, and the K&L Prize for African Literature. She is currently working on her debut short-story collection, Things That Creep at Night.