The Poetry Marathon

The forest is pregnant with uncertainties.

Each time I wade into its gripping darkness,

I think of the snakes, leopards,

And all the other creatures in the wild

That strikes fear in our minds…

The forest is pregnant with uncertainties

But uncertainties are not always of the frightful.

Some good do come out of uncertainties

Like the joy that comes after nine months of pregnancy.

Each time I step into the woods,

I remind myself ,

I have promises to keep…

There is salvation in the forest,

And knowledge is like a deep forest

That can hardly be fully explored.

Each time I wade into the forest

I hope to emerge with the promise of a better life,

I hope to discover that great treasure

Which I promised my father

To find and use to fend the next generation

And give them the life of bliss

That I never had.

Though the forest is pregnant with uncertainties,

But I have promises to keep.

(But I have promises to keep. – credit, Robert Frost culled from the poem… Stopping by woods on a snowy evening)

 

 

Aham is a stream

Though we see her as river,

A poor person’s fowl is his cow.

In the village of my birth

Everything has a gender;

The Aham is the female,

And the Imo the male.

These are the two water bodies

In the village of my birth.

Standing by the bank I watch the water

Flowing deliberately.

I felt invited, I knew it even smiled at me.

I took a plunge.

I first felt cold, then warm

And my mind began to play games.

I became fish, breathing and flowing along with the tide.

I met the mermaid and other aquatic dwellers…

As I joined the queue to receive their sacrament of baptism, I choked

And bobbed up to unkind reality.