From yester ashes, tomorrow blooms in a single breath
Time is a river, unyielding and wide,
A winding path that swallows the goal
We are prisoners of its ceaseless dance,
Swept up in waves of moments barely cherished,
Bouncing off riverbanks
We are passengers in motion’s grasp,
Caught between its endless hands
Yet here, between the embers
Just this space, both wide and tight
Between the heartbeats, quiet and clear,
Suspended in the flicker of light.
And in this space, where time does bend,
The world is ours to shape and mend
A dawn not bound by fate or fear,
We are born anew, as crystal clear.
Where we end up, we no longer belong.
Mathalea Ntaote (21st century) Lesotho
Source: Writer's Space Africa No. 9, January 2025
Time is a river, unyielding and wide,
A winding path that swallows the goal
We are prisoners of its ceaseless dance,
Swept up in waves of moments barely cherished,
Bouncing off riverbanks
We are passengers in motion’s grasp,
Caught between its endless hands
Yet here, between the embers
Just this space, both wide and tight
Between the heartbeats, quiet and clear,
Suspended in the flicker of light.
And in this space, where time does bend,
The world is ours to shape and mend
A dawn not bound by fate or fear,
We are born anew, as crystal clear.
Where we end up, we no longer belong.
Mathalea Ntaote (21st century) Lesotho
Source: Writer's Space Africa No. 9, January 2025
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