Whilst the butterfly and the moth were daydreaming about the sunshine and the moonlight folding the sky
Oh, ‘the darling buds of May’ shrieked with disbelief
Wilting in the hidden frugality of the treasures they could not hunt
The voice whittled of bravery and irked, whimpered,
Is it my grief to pardon punishment?
Opulence festers in the womb of a cocoon
Begetting sages of feeble martyrs
The art of mending a reckless devotion fickle like catkins in the wind
Roots anchored into the prayers of the ancestors with the hope to live their wildest dreams
To be the colour of tomorrow.
Nkateko Tshabalala is a self-published author of Poetic Flair. Full bio at poetrypotion.com.