S3 me w) ntaban


If I had wings
Wings so nesh like dew
Wings so purer like snow
If I had wings
of a virgin’s purity
of history’s memory
I would fly over the mountains
mountains of these pains
which keeps swallowing my better self

S3 me wo ntaban–
Tses3 anoma )kore3 a—
I would have swing my half
Through the mirrors of love
Perch on unseen love branches
Fly and sing along on crystals
To the land, where only
Tunes of love birds are heard
Where miracles marry magic
And gives birth to love spells

If I had wings,
unto you ‘Ebuburow nkosua’ 
The calvary of my burden
The streamliner of my heart pulses
Let winter take gazes at summer
And harmattan steal glimpses of monsoon
But in all, I wish for the myth of my wings
That I may take solitude
And reconcile with hope
To fly across these crests of waves
mourning along my bed of tears…

The Village Thinker © 2014

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