I’m limited by the technology of my time,
but one day you’ll figure this out.
Son, the sun moves into your sign
with the model scan’s soft heat like
little feet dancing on beach goers.
I thought one synthesised, your
personal year is drawing to a close.
On curved moon carved hands;
An element’s dreamy nature of
coin chasers by their cool veneer.
Someday you’ll realise your optimism
and joie de vivre on children of concrete
ladder climbs.
Even on those who fled their passing
phase-phrase for uncertain sky.
A magical ride turns lift-spins into a
a unisphere of hands anew.
The key slumbers sun’s beat like eye
to eye; shall never stop ‘til his olden days.
It means your future hasn’t been written yet, no one’s has!
This Poem was published in the June 2023 edition of the WSA magazine. Please click here to download.
Read – Queen Green – A Poem by Tagwira Rhoda, Malawi
