....it’s been awhile...
I sometimes hate my talent, because it means I allow people
to get to know more. And I do not like
that. I sometimes dream to be an island but, instead I’m human amongst humans,
how annoying.
A few weeks ago I was asked to recite a poem instead I wrote
a letter to myself and now I share it
with you.
Dear You,
What fight are you
fighting?
- The
voices of men and women who fought decades and centuries ago sounds
nothing like the voices of this day. Today the voices sing a new song.
- What
interests me most is what fight are you fighting?
- Remember
when you were in high school, annoyed by one of your adolescent troubles
and exclaimed “uh I can wait until I leave high school!”.... Well
High Schools over, how is life now....
- It was as if I was Maya
Angelou’s Caged bird that...
....stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
- For in my head life is such
a challenge all you can do is sing, Is this the song I sing to that
reflects my heart (ah ah no... Maám I refuse) so like Maya I will ask
plainly ...
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
- I
think you missed the question, I simply asked what are you fighting?
- Okay fine; A Corrupt
government has us lamenting the cries of Robert William Service
To hell with Government I say;
I'm sick of all the piddling pack.
I'd like to scram, get clean away,
And never, never more come back.
With a heart of hope I long to go
To some lost island of the sea,
And there get drunk with joy to know
No one on earth is over me.
- Really
now?
- Okay what about compassion,
I’m fighting for compassion, Is that not a right cause
Like a story told of a young man
Who went to his friend’s funeral
And not by his own sadness
But, that of his friends family
That deeply moved he wept
- Maybe,
that’s what I am fighting for that type of compassion
- Or perhaps the injustices of
this world, that we could one day arrive to a place like, Raymond Foss and
commemorate with jubilance
We gathered, took time off,
pondered our freedom,
on the anniversary
our Declaration of Independence
when we dissolved the political bonds
when we proclaimed, to the world,
what we hoped for, what we believed in
as a people, set apart,
that we hold these truths to be self-evident,
that we are born equal, each one,
that the creator gave us unalienable rights,
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
How wondrous are those words,
how much we have achieved
casting off the chains that hold us back
how far we have to go; but
We are free, by most measures
- Well
to me by men’s standard that is an honourable thing to fight for
- See,
that could be what I let people see, ignoring the actual fight happening
and putting on a façade
- But, I cannot be the only
one fighting so I stalked some people in the most socially dignified way,
on Facebook. To find that they too were fighting.
“Bare your blade and raise it high, stand your ground, the dawn will
come.”
Francois
“Embrace what God is trying to do in your life!
Your spiritual life and inner growth will overflow.”
Semakaleng
"When I speak to you, I speak from Christ within me, Christ in you,
Christ around us and Christ among us.”
Mariette
“Yes a girl can look beautiful with short hair...
rocking my natural hair like nobody’s business... Those who knew me for weave
hitting and scratching... sorry no more.”
Tlotlisang
- This
fight thing I do not do alone, and not every fight is plainly seen
- There
have been men and women who fought; many carry scares; not
all lay to be seen, in their clenched fists and bruised limbs, but rather in the Deep
recesses of their hearts and winding valleys in
their minds.
- You
asked me what I am fighting
- Well,
honestly, I’m fighting you most of the times. I fight myself.
- And
yes I walk through the corridors of life, with others walking along side
me and passed me.
- But
most of the battles are with myself, which is both frustrating and
heart-breaking
- Yet
I am nudged constantly, there’s this thing that keeps pulling me and
pushing me forward
- Like the words uttered by
Stephen King’s Red in the Walls of Shawshank State Prison
“Let me tell you something my friend.
Hope is a dangerous thing.
Hope can drive a man insane.”
- Perhaps that’s why my fight is not in utter
despair, because of Hope, remembering always
We are hard pressed on every side,
but not crushed;
perplexed, but not in despair;
persecuted, but not abandoned
;struck down, but not destroyed.
- Perhaps like Paul (the Apostle) I too can
on day say
I have fought a good fight, I have finished my
course, I have kept the faith.
- But until then in hope I continue to pray
In Him we live, In Him move, In Him we have our
being. Now unto Him who is able to do, exceeding, abundantly, above all that we
could ask or think or imagine, according to the power that is at work within us.
Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, to
God who alone is wise, be honour and glory forever and ever.
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, the sweet fellowship of
the Holy Spirit be with us all, now and evermore.
Amen
With Love, Me
