Author: OSIRO NYAR KEPHA

 

Can I go there?

Can I venture there?

Is it OK?

Am I enough?

 

If not, what can I do to fill in the blanks?

 

Oh! What bliss to find out that I am enough.

The person I am is enough and able.

Yes! I am valuable and priceless.

So, dear me, don’t dim your light.

 

Let your light shine, glow and grow! 

 

 

Life hurts.

I have tasted it.

Life hurts.

It has wrecked me.

 

I dare not hope.

I dare not dream.

Can I hope?

Should I dream?

 

Life hurts.

Oh! But it is so beautiful.

Life hurts.

It’s a rose amongst the thorns.

 

I will hope.

I will dream.

I will push past the pain.

I will not give up, despite the adversity.

 

I will keep on smelling the roses in spite of the painful thorns.

 

 

Hey you! fear not.

You are worth caring for, my dear.

You are worth cherishing.

You are worth loving.

Relax, don’t condemn yourself.

I do love you!

 

 

I love this feeling.

The way the breeze gently caresses my brow.

I love this warm feeling.

The way the sun rays kiss my tired face.

 

I like this buzz, this constant hum of activity around me.

I like the way spring, gently, steadily brings back to life, the seemingly dead nature.

The sleeping nature around me awakens from their winter slumber.

I like the way nature yawns and stretches and wakes up.

 

I love these different shades of green and the myriad colours splashed over the landscape.

They paint a masterpiece for my cynical eyes to behold.

I breathe in the fresh, crisp air, lo and behold I am now emerging, awakening.

I come forth from the cold, hard recess of my frozen mind.

 

I shade off the ice of strife, the cobwebs of doubt and disbelief.

I bask in the warm rays of love and my heart blossoms with hope.

 

 

That, I may be refreshment.

That, I may be warmth from the biting cold of indifference.

That I may be nourishment, feeding the weary worn out soul.

Oh! I am empty, do fill me to the brim.

That, I may overflow with healing waters.

Refreshing waters that are gushing forth to quench the parched soul.

 

 

A lone ranger, I am sometimes.

A bulldozer, I am not.

A trailblazer, I am often.

A sluggish snail, I am sometimes.

A terrified, discouraged failure I deem myself often.

 

Oh, yet in all this, I still grab on and hold tight to hope.

 

I now know that, though I rise and keep falling, I won’t give up.

For the beauty of it, is that, as I fall, I rise again and again.

I rise despite the fall.

I rise in spite of the fall.

I rise because of the fall.

 

Thanks to the fall, I rise higher and stronger! 

 

 

Words I never uttered, you shoved down my throat.

Thoughts I never had, you flung across the room.

Intentions I never conceived, you tied and bound to my frame.

You judged and condemned me, without a trial.

I deserved no defence, you declared.

No word did I utter.

I was utterly silent, yet even that, was my downfall.

 

 

 

She longed for acceptance.

She thirsted for approval.

She yearned for a warm embrace.

She hungered for love.

 

None of what she aspired for, materialized.

Had she missed the morsels thrown at her feet?

Was there anything left for her?

She looked around her, agonizingly.

 

She knelt on the dusty pathway.

She crawled, clawing frantically, searching, seeking.

She tried to gather crumbs strewn around her. 

Meagre crumbs of acknowledgement flung her way.

 

 

What does it have to do with anything?

What does it have to do with this here now?

What does it have to do with all these?

What does it have to do with you?

What does it have to do with me, myself and I?

I dare ask you my learned foe or is it, friend?

 

 

Hey!

Why is your face so grim and lonely?

Why is your countenance so wary?

Why are these anxious thoughts bullying and taunting you? 

Why are they strutting all over the expanse of your face?

Why are the windows of your soul so full?

Why are you agitated with the tsunami of a troubled mind?

Do tell me why this is so!

 

 

Flow unhindered.

Free, unfettered.

Soar above this din.

Fly above this storm.

Soar, above this here crazy world of ours.

Glide.

Smile.

Enjoy each futile, fleeting moment.

Embrace the fragile beauty of this here life.

 

I don’t belong here.

I don’t belong there.

My roots are developing here.

My roots go so deep over there.

 

Why this disquiet?

Why this unrest?

Am I here?

Am I over there?

 

Do I have to choose?

Do I have to get into a box?

Do I have to check-in at only one counter?

Do I have to embrace only one reality?

 

I am here.

I am there.

I belong here.

I belong there.

 

My heart is here.

My heart is there.

So, here and there is my reality.

Oh, lovely this duality of my existence.

 

My residence here and my roots there are the Ying and Yang that make my home. 

 

 

You see, what you see.

I don’t see, what you see. 

Because, if I saw what you see;

I will have to react to what you see. 

 

I am OK in my ignorant state.

Yes, it is an artificial ignorance.

It is a predetermined state of non-seeing.

Yes, I refuse to see what is visible and right before me.

 

When I admit that I saw what you see, I will have to deal with it.

 

So, I bury my head in the sand.

I see nothing.

I hear nothing.

I smell nothing.

 

Well, not really nothing.

 

I do see something.

I do hear something.

I do smell something.

I do feel something.

 

This something is the sand of indifference.

 

I have heaped this dirt on my head.

I have buried my head in the sand.

I want to involve myself in nothing that isn’t my responsibility.

I need to remind you, that apart from me, nothing else is of concern, to me.

 

 

She pushes herself to the corner.

She crouches, bunches herself into a ball.

She hopes to warm herself in the biting cold.

She steels herself as the frozen glacial hand of frost, wrenches her from her safe corner.

She tries to ward off the firm icy grasp of winter that shakes and rattles her mercilessly.

 

The humid mist of indifference and rejection seeps into every fold of her garment.

It chills her to the bone.

She struggles to warm her deadened body as her heart cries for life.

The howling desolate wind of lack and “barely making ends meet” pushes her to the ground.

They devour the last morsel of hope she’d held dearly in her bosom.

 

She doesn’t give in to despair.

She gathers herself painfully.

She struggles back to her feet.

She shakes like a flag in a tornado.

She is unsteady like a boat in the stormy sea.

 

She painstakingly  with an iron will, gathers the crumbs of hope strewn around her.

She vows to herself that no matter what it takes she will persevere.

She will nurture the frail, fragile bird called hope.

She will allow it to soar high again.

Her life depended on it.

 

 

I am scared.

I cannot move.

I cannot breathe.

I tremble and shake.

 

My mouth is dry.

My heartbeat is a drum.

My knees are wobbly.

My hands are clammy.

 

My mind is blank.

My eyes are haggard.

My nose flares.

My stomach is a knot.

 

I am terrified.

I am anxious.

I am worried.

I am stuck.

 

Oh! What do I do?

 

Do I cringe?

Do I stop?

Do I quit?

Do I run?

 

Do I persevere?

Do I push past the fear?

Do I tread though it is not clear?

Do I move forward though none cheers?

 

I will give it a try.

I have nothing to lose.

I have all to gain.

I will do it afraid.

 

Dear me, I release you.

Enjoy the journey, embrace your failures. 

Take pleasure in your small victories.

Be kind to yourself; this is the oxygen that will take you to the summit.

 

 

I want to change.

How do I do it?

I want to stop.

Please show me how.

 

Each struggle pushes me back.

Each wriggle puts me down.

Each step forward I take brings me lower.

Each tentative I make brings me to my knees.

 

Oh! What can I do?

Who can help this sinking woman!

 

 

She tried to steel her trembling heart.

Her shaking hands.

She wanted to quiet the rage, fear, and tremor she felt within.

The volcano within her was rumbling, throbbing.

The pressure was building up.

It was almost the breaking point.

The molten lava was boiling.

The volcano, on the verge of exploding;

Spewing out the potent, scorching mass;

Burning everything in its wake.

She was exhausted.

She was burned out.

 

 

My soul,  I bared.

I am grateful you cared.

For my burden, you shared.

 

They, say.

We say.

Who says?

I’ll say.

No, say!

 

Push inwards.

Pull outwards.

Stretch sideways.

Flatten completely.

 

Pressure from outside.

Pressure from inside.

Pressure from around.

Pressure from above.

 

Please release me.

Please relieve me.

Please rescue me.

Please relent!

 

Oh! 

Ease this pressure that is breaking me!