By Kanute Tangwa aka K(C)anute Tangwa
Fire is a fiery reawakening
and the whooshing whispering winds its fuel
kindling angst, then serenity
– before the spiralling flames
the otherness; we and them
– before the plumes of smoke
the colonial narrative
– before the flames
the afro facilitators
– before the inferno
the church minstrels
when harmattan brush fires/
roar, rage, lick, crunch the sprawling savannah/
culminating into the leap fires on the slants of mvako/
leaving an ash dark expanse/
laying waste in the eyes of the beholder/
but a harbinger of rebirth and renewal/
since the baked earth rejuvenates/
heating and cracking seeds:
yielding
first, the blade/
then, the ear/
then, the full grain in the ear/
carpeting the landscape with a greenish hue.
sign of life
mark of abundance
token of bounty
waiting for reapers/
waiting for peace mendicants/
– for there is peace in reaping
– for there is solace in reaping
since they reap what they sow in justice, dignity and peace.