Children of Eternity

We followed the shapes of the Moon

Sun was an enigma too visceral to see through

Only through shadows could we define

What seasons, omens, portents sculpted the rhyme

We could not as we do now purchase and pretend to hold time

All our pieces were mere reflections of reverent impermanence

Signatures of our elemental rites and experience

When the yellow birds came to knock on woods

We knew that leaves would begin to cascade

Drifting on the emaciated rivers where kingfishers would swoop

Signaling seasons of migration as we begin to store foods

Once the fields have been burned

Soon, the elders would weave stories of lessons learned

From seasons dry or seasons abundant

Maidens could now wring new songs out of olden melodies

Warriors would hone their skills on each other’s bodies

If you moved sluggishly your wound would remember it

If you moved too swiftly your limp would bestow on you a new name

This is how our times were marked

That is how fresh fires were sparked

By we the children of eternity

Published by greenankhworks

Revolutionary Lover of Green Ankhs, Ma'at, Poetry, Justice and Social Music

One thought on “Inkondlo

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Seasons As Teachers

Kevy Michaels





Socio-political commentary, life, history, poetry e.t.c

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