Ndoto (Dreams)

I remember my African sunsets and dawns,

Clustered into a yellow, distant , fire ball

in the horizon.

I recall when I began to dream,

When it was finally alright to dream.

I was carried away by words on paper

My imagination violently escaped my conditioned frame

and

I was let loose;

Set free to just be.

Were it not for those writings,

These dreams would have withered away

Dormant, half dead, like in a coma.

Half awake and half asleep,

Fighting to become real and sadly loosing

the battle-never to be.

Finally resting in mock peace.

Fortunately this legend was foreseen.

Long before these words,

Was planted, the seed.

As others impatiently stomped the ground

Willing their drooping sprigs to sprout,

I knelt down beside my seedling and spoke life

into its tiny leaves

and sure enough, it did not disappoint.

The birth of the fruit was announced with much praise

and song

To many, it seemed like magic pronounced, but to me,

It was the words of my mouth, His mouth.

The labor had ceased; then pursued the laughter.

Linger on the sweet memories ….

I remember my African sunsets and dawns.

Even though now my eyes start to burn,

and my throat chokes with tears

of that

Soursweet memory,

I still can;

Remember my dreams.