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loricPoems
African Night Blood moon, huge and slow Winks at me with different face Unhurried ascent No man made light shouts Stars without competition The show is theirs whole Off in the distance The sound of heaven rings out Sung by hutted friends Loud and unfettered Unaware of audience Harmonies in full To the creator An offering lifted up With full abandon On the horizon My eyes find burning camp fires Of communal song Standing next to me I nudge the elbow of God And whisper softly, “Can you hear all that? That ancient fragrant music?” He waited a beat. The songs still in full A smile colored his voice “I know,” he replied. “With the joy of life They offer this every night, And I’m always here. Tonight, I share it.” My wet tears of gratitude Became one with earth. My ears overwhelmed, I yearned for another sense To engage it more: To taste or smell it And have it be part of me Attached forever. So God and I stood With the stillness of listening Aware of glory I don’t know how long; Time tried its normal counting But we hid from it Standing still And we drank it together. Temba, his arms wide.
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 1:06 AM UTC
Trekkie African Haiku
African Night Blood moon, huge and slow Winks at me with different face Unhurried ascent No man made light shouts Stars without competition The show is theirs whole Off in the distance The sound of heaven rings out Sung by hutted friends Loud and unfettered Unaware of audience Harmonies in full To the creator An offering lifted up With full abandon On the horizon My eyes find burning camp fires Of communal song Standing next to me I nudge the elbow of God And whisper softly, “Can you hear all that? That ancient fragrant music?” He waited a beat. The songs still in full A smile colored his voice “I know,” he replied. “With the joy of life They offer this every night, And I’m always here. Tonight, I share it.” My wet tears of gratitude Became one with earth. My ears overwhelmed, I yearned for another sense To engage it more: To taste or smell it And have it be part of me Attached forever. So God and I stood With the stillness of listening Aware of glory I don’t know how long; Time tried its normal counting But we hid from it Standing still And we drank it together. Temba, his arms wide.
loric
Written by
loric
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 1:06 AM UTC
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