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Poem

Angifi Dladla

There is Someone, 
or a presence,
I am not sure;
but I feel it
driving me – a voiceless
passenger, in cycles.

Sure of my way,
I sometimes feel
like changing track
as if there’s a radar within.
I dodge wounds, tears;
I bump into friends, stairs.

Deaf to the feeling,
I dive, dive deep into a den
of fangs and claws. Calm, I escape.
Then I tremble, I sweat.
Neither my wits nor my muscles
could shame such death.

As youths we always plunged 
into a canyon – home of a two-headed 
monster. We defied parents 
and passers-by; but today 
I would never, ever try 
even if promised to win a lottery!

The other season I was deep
in the heart of flames
where fury is pumped.
I burned man, I burst into flames
with no help even from the God
of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.

Today, those flames are within, 
lighting the path for people
between life-and-death, 
between snipers and strikes.
So, Someone, or, this presence,
is older, wiser than reason.

It has paws
obeying cat’s laws  ?
soft as placebo,
light as pumice,
hard as claws
to tend, condition,
goad, and launch!

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