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.

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Loic Ekinga Kalonji (21st century) Democratic Republic of the Congo

Source: 20.35 Africa