fear of my foe

my fear of my foe as i go on your business

that missioDei, ‘the Mission of God’,
they say, to which you picked me
even before my mother conceived me

a spotless soul in her womb, leaves me

helpless, clinging to my own self
like that canine couching in her own
warmth, refusing to pounce at encroachers

or, at least bark to keep them away;

this makes it easy for my enemy
to walk on my head
until i am dead to this world!

i turn, hence, to you, my sponsor and spouse

i struggle to please, as you become my companion
leaving me to the whims and fancies
of those prowling thieves!

 

 

night heron

roaming foxes

and creeping pythons

provoke not poetry

in night heron

that challenges me

with her silence

and unsung patience

before flying

with splendid colour

of a slim structure

reminding, also, the need

to anchor in hope

of a better tomorrow

a faith in universal care

and abandoning speed

for anxious moving

henry victor     14.01.2002