The mother who chewed her tongue Pt2

Read pt1 here

“Ngoba,” she said at last, “why do you ask?” A bubble of soreness burst in her throat.
That was the only word she could muster.
“Ngoba?”
“Why do you ask” she answered us with a question. She gulped. Swallowing her voice.
Her very children were pulling clogged nets from her spirit. Awakening demons she had laid to rest. The day he passed, she had vowed to herself to remember him in secrecy. She quietly shelved their precious memories, chewed her tongue and said to herself, “hide this.”
******************chew chew***************************

end of Pt 1.

The mother who chewed her tongue Pt2

Flashback a few months ago…

Pelisa is driving us. We are going back home now.

Mama is looking out the front window taking pictures of the rows of faded grass sprawling over the winding land on the roadside. My fingertips gripping on the stick, pulling out my sucker from Zweli’s mouth. He clenches his front teeth making a g’dlhe sound. I raise my eyebrows, mildly agitated by his excessive suckling and the thought of his moisture-laden tongue surfing on my stock-sweet. I blink then look up and catch sight of ma as she reviews her amateur images. She’s hoping to find a colorful capture.

But..we already know there is none to be found.
Not only owing to her photo taking skills, but also ’cause no orange buttery sunset or thin silver twilight will suddenly stretch over the bland rows of grass to melt into the horizon of  her images.’ Continue reading “The mother who chewed her tongue Pt2”

Advertisements

Blossomed. Blossoming…

White-Orchards
White-Orchards

Your words, your presence your laughter
What is purpose when it has blossomed?
blossoming…..
what is death when the life that lived- breathes beyond the bounds of a burial?
blooming a breathing brimming interminable life?

Is it a loss when purpose has run its course and left its mark?
Is it a loss when death arrives with life having been lived?
Is it a loss when the sands of Gods precious thoughts of your life, now solidly stand
like tall towers of legacy
(thoughts that were written before the foundations of the earth began)

You are a summers bloom-a blossomed purpose
blossoming… Continue reading “Blossomed. Blossoming…”

The joy of breathing among angels

Overnight we begin to refer to you as was and used to be

What remains in the now are the moments in the memory

What rests is the joyfulness in the laughter shared,

Like the yellow in the sun.

Continue reading “The joy of breathing among angels”