by David Mwaura
Deep down in the cradle of time,
The cradle of my time alive.
A seed of the finest product in life:
Love unchained and hope fulfilling.
A bond that I don’t know but fully possess.
I deeply and eagerly hold my breath, still,
Frankly for a very long time now.
All I know is still with momentous jerks,
I can’t wait to have a reason to open my mouth,
To use it with no refrain to know what this is all about.
I gaze to an empty view with not much to call a scenery,
Oh wait, my eyes are not gazing at all but in dreams of rolling greenery.
Certainly all the kicking I do echoes my overrunning desire to look,
Not at anything meaningful but to something that will make my eyes play,
And cheeky ideas in my warm and soft head candidly cook.
Give me a second, not even two to see the face,
Of the wonderful voice that tenderly laughs and loves,
That calms my spirit whenever I am in rumbling high waters.
The strong deep voice that wakes me up deep in my sleep,
Mumbling and then laying a warm hand making the night more cuddly.
The two seem to really want my attention unmistakably so badly.
When I grow up too big to fit in here I will finally get to see the sweet voices.
I don’t think I will e’er shut my eyes, ears or ever close my mouth,
Isn’t that all the sleeping and laziness now is all about?
To emerge at awe with my mouth out wide,
Shouting how much I missed those I never even knew,
Look into the eyes of those with smiles ever so wide
Because of my soft head and chuckles never so few.
Finally I will kick and not be stopped by a soft wall,
And with hands ever so tiny hold on to two.
Never to let them go as they never did me too.
I can’t imagine how much I would be in eternal tears,
High seas of roaring woe, woeful moans and fiery fears,
Never knowing if I will be and that I cannot be.
Pushed away just when it all started to be.
When I STARTED TO BE.
Thank you to the two for I became..
I cry for those who never got this far,
Saw a light at the end of the tunnel,
Only to be lost into darkness before young,
Realizing that they will never be.
Too short was the moment to realize the sentence.
Only pitiful pain and dark despair was your cradle,
And a future absent and of blasphemy black,
For a broken love as broken and selfish penance.