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Dear Fatima,

Here are a few words I am afraid to say.

Come to the edge, he said. They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, he said. They came. He pushed them…and they flew. - Guillaume Appollinare

I am afraid to speak. 
I don’t want to speak. 
I have nothing to say.
I cannot speak words of chilimbiso.

I am not the one lying on this bed,
With broken bones.
I cannot understand.
I don’t understand how you’re.

I don’t know what I am feeling.
I am afraid to feel.
I don’t want to feel.
I am afraid.

I attempt to think.
I fail.
I lose my thoughts
To the dread of missing the point.

Perhaps I can say this.
With heart full of humility.

You may be lying here
Hearing voices of regret
That you should have stayed in bed,
On the morning of misfortune.

Perhaps the voices are within.
They are possibly without.
From frightened souls
Who never dare the adventure of endurance.

Those are voices frightened souls hear,
And follow. That’s not you.
You could be feeling a sting in your body now,
Your spirit doubting your own adventures,

You wondering what possessed you, 
To brave the dark of dawn,
Ghosts of terror invading your courage,
Resigning to fate not yours. That’s not you.

You, dear one, know
That pain, sweat and blood
Are for your daring greatly,
For believing in something greater than you.

For embracing a life of adventure,
A life of risk,
Of surmounting the insurmountable,
Trusting your journey home will be worth the effort.

Many a soul live timid and frightened lives,
Lick wounds they never had,
Lie in bed regretting,
Die a life never lived.

The day will come,
Soon you shall arise,
To do what you came here for,
To soar in the storms,

Brave many more dark mornings,
To heal the broken bones,
Heal bruised hearts,
And live to run another day.

Copyright © 2016 by Nsamu Moonga
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