I have a recurring dream where my grandfather appears before me.
Deaf to his voice I read his lips and all I can make out is:
“The moody moon’s wand courts the red sea!”
Then I wake up.
I’ve come to accept that…
I communicate more than I say.
I commune with fate more than I pray.
They are teaching me how to water down my thoughts.
Use meditation to drop acid and raise my spirit’s alkaline levels.
I recently escivated my tongue from a shallow grave.
Lowered the PH balance in my word, cultivated my mind and planted my feelings in my art.
I’m still learning how to cast spells, cast shells the better to hear the ocean that birthed me.
Don’t mind the wrinkles on my forehead I mostly squint my way through the fame, the spot light blinds my third eye.
It’s hard enough living up to the things I say.
My head in the clouds I walk around with weights tied to my ankles on most days.
A descendent of the sky people.
I’ve been re-calibrating my zulu settings.
My nature remains the same no matter how much skin I shed.
We replace every cell in our body every seven years.
At 32 years i’m burning through my fifth body.
I am growing tired as an artist.
There is a vast heaviness in my throat because every evening the blue sky sets where my 5th chakra used to be.
The roof of my mouth leaks of a truth my tongue can no longer hold or uphold.
I’ve lived a third of my life haunted by 2 fathers;one passed away and the other I’ve never met.
I’m a father of two and the mist carried my third this past Monday.
I spend most days missing places no alphabet letter could ever carry.
I’ve never felt at home in my body but I’ve walked in and out of homes with bones for walls coated with human skin.
There is an automated answering machine where my heart used to be.
It responds to voice prompts in my absence.
It records body language and replays things people will never say to my face.
I’ve been nurturing my listening skills amidst the clutter of my thoughts and only last night did I hear my grandfather.
I stopped trying to read his lips and listened to his eyes…
I changed my language settings…
Heart heard: The moody moon’s wand courts the red sea
Spirit Interpreted: O modimo wa nko dimetsi*!
*God protects me
Published with Permission © Mutle Mothibe