Wednesday, September 12, 2012
On Seeing Chisiya again after Sixteen Years
This time I was there:
I saw Chisiya but never heard the echoes,
Rushing to Runde River for a swim
Only to be overwhelmed by the dry
Bed of sand, where once mystery ruled.
I paused; I pondered,
Searched for it, and saw a new mystery;
That emptiness that used to be a large pool
Where once crocodiles and hippos met
To divide territory and plan attacks on humans.
No, there wasn't any of that this time;
But the sand burying even the largest rock
Inspired thoughts of new dreams:
Conceived here, to be born in another land;
Mototi Dream mating with American Dream
In a marriage of Distaster
As the Dreams Divide Territory and Time.
And when I walked on this tomb
Of what once scared and attracted;
I could sense the deeper smile in me
Cajoling the element of fun where now lay Dread.
Back from Runde, having followed its course
All the way to its confluence with another river,
I saw Chisiya again, from another angle
Where rocks wrestled with trees
For the early bath in sunlight;
I saw Chisiya again
When the sun was escaping the sky;
And the rocks looking at the sinking horizon
Seemed to grow longer and denser
That's when I could have heard Chisiya's echoes
Had I not already courted those from elsewhere.
It's the change we seek
To have been away for so long
And agree there is nothing wrong
With a dream or two, if we remember
to cement new hearts to origins,
and learn even to refuse echoes
That invoke that which used to scare.