It is not funny how life is
We do not accept the conformity of the beauty that erodes like an oasis cursing the sunset
The cascades of the light falling on metaphors are an obscurity to the eyes
We seek familiarity in the strangers that have nurtured and ushered our dreams by encouraging our souls to find us,
not becoming inchoate lingering totems of dreams
Illusions are fairy tales of the cast away memories of the dreams lost within prayers
An inkling of insanity is a righteous right of passage to the window of wisdom
To be familiar in a forgotten face with a name etched in stone
It is funny how the humor of sadness grovels for initiation in happiness
I hear an amen at the beginning of a sermon barraging the truth as if we will inherit the light of the moon when it fades
Are we the medley of words rhyming for no reason?
A symphony of notes with chords that cannot make music?
It is funny how we are scattered in unison of a song within the paradox of words imprinting our own history
And no, we’re not just surviving because we can breathe and bleed and mend a smile
We sow existential seeds growing on the bridges held by the pillars erected at the dunes where death writes the history of the future.
Nkateko Tshepo is a self-published author of Poetic Flair. Full bio at poetryportion.com.