as if they are missing water
nothing
ever grows
in these barren hands
of mine
yet they can water a desert
of blank paper
turning it into a beautiful flower garden
of love
of pain
of sorrow
of hope
and more
depending on the soul’s fancy
of the person smelling the flowers
that on its own i tell you
is a kind of magic
which makes me believe
they find water somewhere deep
in the drying streams of my being
in my war cries
as i go to battle against an enemy
which is self
in the despair of my defeats and losses
and the joys of my daily victories
somewhere
these barren hands of mine
though missing rain
do find water.
Siphiwe Hlongwane is a creative writer at heart. His work has appeared on Praxis Magazine Online, Poetry Portion, Kalahari Review and FunDza.