Posted: June 14, 2015 in Uncategorized

Eternity spread before me as I stood there upon the wavy shores. Wind and waves were crushing upon the jagged reef, breaking up all the cries of despair they brought from way across the shore—unloading their despairing load. At the far horizon, a blood-red sky and orange sun stood as faithful witnesses over the vast sea—a sea made bitter by the desolate tears of the sons of man. I stood there, a solitary figure away from home, with darkness creeping up behind an unsuspecting sun and I was struck by an epiphany. I understood that…..

………Sometimes dawn comes at twilight: That moment of vivid lucidity where our thoughts haunt us while we are staring at the dying orange-red ball by the western horizon. Loneliness slowly creeps up on us and jump-starts the mechanisms of the draw-bridge linking the conscious part of our mind to its deranged long-lost brother; the unconscious. Keeping solitary company suddenly feels wiser and deep, yet we always crave for that drunken brawl of the corner bar.

And so, far from the maddening crowd, I burrowed deep into my psyche, linking all aspects of my troubled day, trying hard to untangle that raveled yarn of confusion and hurt. That is the moment I started thinking of the things I lost, things I silently weep for in the caverns of my rundown brain.

It’s not the razzle-dazzle things that came to my mind but the smallest of things: a shared joke, the silent moments between one conversation and the next, a walk in the night and even a simple smile and a hug. These moments, though insignificant to a passing eye as they may be, remain engraved upon my hollow heart forever and give me a sense of belonging.

It’s a pity how the young fail to live in the fluid presence, always seeking a better place and a better day. It’s the perils of ambition; we sacrifice the important things so that we might just have our moment in the stars—bright lights and black-tinted Mercedes.

We never know the good years when we are living through them; we never know a good thing when we have it. We let time pass and let memory be the ultimate judge and jury to the good times we once had, the good times we never acknowledged because we were too busy hunting fortune—and thus we live a nostalgic retrospective life. We (the youth) all live a delirious dream, only to wake up with grey hairs and malfunctioning sphincters.

But seriously, who can fully grasp the pleasures of a subdued life in a sleepy little town? Alas the joy! So unfathomable! From the lucid early morning fresh air and the accompanying crow of a well-fed cock, to the splendid golden sunset over the jagged hills. Life can be slow, but it is the deep tranquility that works up on our dull senses—the vast wisdom from the silent mountains, the warm flow of silting up river. Striving for high ideas has left us blind to all the beauty there is around us. All I am asking is for us to slow down and live. Dance your demons away under a putrefying African moon, take time to watch a baby smile, give you grandparents a kiss, lose yourself in the shallow dimples on your lover’s cheek or ruffle the dreadlocks of a random Rastafarian. This is how life should be…..this should be our legacy.

© David Phiri 2015

  1. marshla says:

    Diva uri chibaba


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