I have been here before,
As a barrel of simmering thoughts
As tall men and women that fell from grace, down to earth like flickering lightning bolts
As a woman that told her people to kill the cattle and burn all the crops
As a loincloth that covered a new born in which new beginnings
were formed
I have been here before,
As the sparkling eye of the mother of the seven winds
As pollen dust that oozes on the tapestry of spring
A little boy that travelled the world and spoke of fools and kings,
false prophets and dreams
I have been here before,
As a black author who writes what he likes,
A clasp between silhouettes and twilights
As a cosmic mermaid with fish scale-like feathers,
For centuries man mistaken me for a shooting star, for the indescribable god speed they couldn’t fathom
It was I who taught the rays of the sky to fondle with sky,
The remnants of song that feed on memory to thrive
I have been here before,
As Ukhamba that tasted the froth of roasted corn beer
As Inkanyamba, a giant snake that scraped the skies and left all withered
As Indaba that carried customs like strong ancient pillars
As Inyanga that gurgled shadows of night to help the children cross the river
As Ilanga that kept the days bright even during the zeniths of winter
I have been here before,
As the soil that was once fertile, but now is barren land
As the hands of a man that woke Lazarus from the dead
As a raging phoenix, through the ashes I returned
I am here now,
As light encased in flesh
I never said I was poet, but it just came to me,
Twirling in lulling patterns of punchlines, metaphors and similes,
Reminding me, that I’m the piece of that which weaved everything into being