The morning comes again.
Sunlight steals into my room,
Like he always does,
And I awake at the robin’s song.
Why does the sun’s fingers
Chill the blood in my veins?
Why does the robin’s melody
Scratch the drums of my ear?
Shall I live through this day,
Stained with the ashes-
From yesterday’s raging-fire,
Yet warm in my heart’s hearth.
I wish I could part this air like a veil-
And see your face before mine.
I wish I could clutch her slippery hands-
And feel your warmth cloak me.
So I breathe in this formlessness,
Hoping that your fragrance-
May fill this strangling emptiness-
Sagging the holds of my heart.
Come, love come to me;
Come marry your voice to my ears;
Come plough my frame;
For I am, now, but a fallow land.
Written by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson