There are days you will look in the mirror
and you will not recognize the face you see.
When you will sing in the shower
and the melody will fade quietly into the air
leaving you only with the cry of a dying man.
But, you will be blind to it all
or rather, deaf
because it is just a song to you.
But, that is the problem with songs
for sometimes, they are a reflection of our spirit.
On some days, they will come with the full force of a youthful river
tearing through the rocks as it heads to the sea to meet its calm lover
the one whose bed is soft and warm like a heap of wool.
On other days, they will come like a dark cloud that covers the heavens
and makes the sun creep back into its castle in fear and shuts its doors
because she knows that the rains will not be for children to dance in
nor make paper boats that sail with the tide of the flowing water.
She knows that these are the rains that will last hours on end
falling quietly and yet, ferocious like a serpent
that waits for its prey in the long grass where the goats graze.
She knows that the skies will be dark and the houses will flood
with angry water that will take away the little children
as offerings to Njaa, the hungry god.
And when they finally stop, the village will be quiet with grief
because everyone lost their voice wailing in the rain
begging the water to return their children.
And, when morning comes, parents will bury their children in silence
without priests to say the final prayer.
When you start singing this type of song,
I hope you will not stop.
I hope you will go on and sing every word until the very end.
Maybe then, you will know.



© Maathe