Venice masks

Wednesday 13 March 2024

If my father were to speak at last - Loic Ekinga

Son, 
I never imagined anything I planted 
On my way here would grow as tall as you did
Let glory return to God—

What is your poetry about, 
I don’t think I understand most of it; 
teach me language, son
So I may show you behind the curtains of my life. 
You say you’ve let go of love recently 
After your mother took you, I looked for God
for twenty years 
Something in our blood is an ever-spinning compass
– I can’t tell you how many times 
I returned to that moment, how many times
Losing you was a barrel held between my teeth

On your way to Lusaka, you tell me that even termites 
Are building toward heaven
I want you to look for God the same way,
I want you to look for home the same way.

Loic Ekinga Kalonji (21st century) Democratic Republic of the Congo
Source: 20.35 Africa

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.