Skip to main content

Healed

 When you got here, the doors were locked. You looked through the window and when I saw you, I shrugged feigning Oblivion. You stood there for what seemed like forever but then again I wasn't ready to open up. You knocked and Kept knocking on the door till your hands were sore. You didn't stop.

I saw undying love in your eyes and I wondered at your zeal. I let go of all insecurities and swung the doors open. Holding on to your hands, I wept greatly. I was broken from prison and had just been let loose. I didn't know this man. But peace dwelt in his eyes. I was grieving and he grieved with me. Nothing mattered anymore, this was a reality that sweetened my spirit. I rested greatly in his mysteries. I became light.

However, he walked in and I saw a slight frown after looking around. The house was covered in cobwebs, the curtains that should have been White were all brown with dust. The walls were cracked up all over. It was all broken, every single thing in my house. He stared long and hard at me and then I knew I would get better. We got working, hand in hand, step by step until my house became a castle in paradise. He dwelt therein. We communed and he became my helper. Life didn't become easier but I got stronger. I had a helper that knew me from within, a teacher and a friend. I gloried in the thought of this!

~cataleabonez


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Orchestration

 You sat amongst your brothers And together, you ate colanut with finely brewed tea The smile on your faces were even But you, I know you. Your heart reeks of spite The type that comes from a reicarnated soul You stare innocently but your eyes speak volumes I see the envy and pride Ripening like pure palm wine, ready to be tapped You hugged your brothers with a snare when no one looked I saw you. You broke the sacred oath your father bestowed I saw you pass a sword through your brother's heart In a foreign land, he bled and died without dignity He was buried in shallow sand like a mad dog Like an outcast who was sent to the evil forest I saw you. In your chamber you gloried Marvelling at your orchestration While you put up a facade of tears amongst brothers You are the thorn underneath flowers I saw you. History has never held a stone up The sun looked at you with fury and disgust Your brother died in a strange land unknown Your corpse will be paraded shamefully in your hometown. C...
Post a Comment
Read more

Live and let live

1st November 2019 A warm morning at Kurudu. I had a feeling my morning wouldn't be so swirl when I couldn't reach my fellow IT colleague. PS my name is Favour Kosisochukwu Onyejekwe. I recently got accepted at AIT as an Intern. I bet no one would have been more happier than my father! This means he'd stop burning fuel to bring me here only to sit in his car and stare at trees or the ever blue sky. Back to today! I didn't realize Nyanya had more people than the total number of Nigeria as a whole, my goodness! Today I am determined to meet new people. Well, I'm on my way to AYA, in a keke and Mann! this ride has issues. I do hope we get there on time. The traffic in this part of town is something else. I'm still determined to have a great time! I believe that we were never born to face life alone, or else, Adam would have lived without Eve. I realized something priceless today! That people aren't as scary as they seem. I'm building a habit of puttin...
5 comments
Read more

Tales of moonlight

 Nothing feels the same again. The sun doesn't rise and set like it used to anymore. Time seems like it has become shorter. I never get to see 1pm nor 8pm anymore, probably because they are the rush hours of my life now. I can't remember the last time I looked at the moon with loved ones, starring deep and looking for imaginary moon workers. I miss the way the moon illuminates darkness and creates a soothing calmness as we waste away the night in story telling... I miss my father's deep bass as he tells us about his childhood. Nothing is more beautiful than the pictures of our imagination. The tales of Akpugoeze decades before I was born. The smell of roasted corn and ube, the background sound created by crickets.  Slowly but steadily I am taken to the land of dreams where I can't live in but I am rewarded with memories. Memories created from the pictures of my imagination.  Those were the days of bliss...
Post a Comment
Read more