The early birds
The early birds
It has been a night, a deep night gone but not forever.
Having been lost in my own world, the world of imagination.
Certainly out of this world I wake unwillingly.
I traverse out of this world throughout the night, my brain wandering like an angel
lost in the wild world of the immortals. Oh what I wild dreamer am I!
I passionately indulge in the world of dreams, but yet the passionate indulgence
ceases horrendously when a dreadful giant yearns to devour me.
When I come back, a bell rings in my mind and it goes “it’s just a dream!”
I sit in my bad recollecting all the memories of my extraterrestrial world.
The sweety intimacies of the world of imagination, I wear a smile as I unpack.
And I realize something huge was after me, and the weather suddenly changes I wake.
A glance through the window and the early birds are already up.
Chattering, flattering and singing but yet in oblivion of the mortal
troubled by its immortal word of imagination.
De vroege vogels staan al op, zij zingen.
Die vroeë voëls staan al op, hulle sing.
The early birds are already up, they sing.
They brighten up my day, their peaceful songs banish
the memories of my last dream.
I wear a smile, and the good memories take control
emotions dance as I embark passionately on the real word.
Oh hello early birds! But their oblivion never falters.
Hello beautiful day, goodbye early birds.
As I dance with the waters having been haggard out of this word.
A beautiful day on the horizon, and it starts nicely,
but will it last forever?
So goes my mind.
Copyright © Mzwandile Andile Mangqangala