I am a child of time; a birth to fate!
Alas!
I’m a broken clock counting in antagonist gears;
many times,
it says ‘twelve’ when it’s already dawn.
My story is like that of an ‘Abiku’ predestined to a fate of multiple death and birth
before he later stayed put, efflorescent and suit-able…
Since all these whiles,
I was locked behind my age— in a womb of my lifetime,
scavenging the company of time;
immature yet ripening and seeking a Re-birth.
I hunt the tail of every next year for a big catch in a lagging den on my palms;
and like so, I am tied down with shackles of budding hope
at one corner of myself longing to be redeemed someday.
I live hence over the seasons;
though my mind was an old mirror tarnished with years of experience and wish,
its reflection was still as crystal clear as ever but broader than I can remember.
Yet I stood by my horizon over the nights staring, aging
and reaping cognizance with the rising of the sun at the dayglow.
For my life is a planned episode broken into order of times;
not until one lapses I can’t live another—
now I realize that if I never outgrew my girths
and stretched to every borne—
I might forever be stuck right in that Womb–dead!
And for my life was a seed planted in a test bed
manured with patience and persistence,
certainly, I might never sprout out of my toils of timely soil.
Read Resurgence – A Poem by Comfort Nyati SDB, Zimbabwe
