“Nywele za singa,
Toto kaumbika ja zinga,
Juu chini, mwili kapanga,
Macho yangu tu, hulanga,”
From a cliff, I observed what God spent six days creating before resting on the seventh day. My eye rolled gently as if capturing a documentary.
A bird, passed by. Chapping melodies of which to my heart were olive oil. Mending and repairing my broken soul in a manner, only God knows.
Soon, a picturesque of a lady, wealthy with beauty, walk by walk, thread by thread, took a descension to the water. Calm to the cold, and zest to the glamour.
I observed, the water raise as she sunk. Looking at how her brown skin well blended with the blue outlook of the water. A play note that, even my own thinking perceived not.
The sun was busy darting the sky orange as it waved by to me. But, look, ye, it fell in love with her hair. Strand by strand, the sun caressed her, touching to heart each, a feeling that, only poets experience with their pens as they do their thing on paper.
Soon, she requested water to bless their marriage with sun. A request that was quickly accepted.
“Do it girl, am yours,” thou speaketh water…
She dipped her head in water and haste rose, splashing the water wave, up in a curve, high above. I looked at the ribbon of colours right above her and resigned to not only pen it down but save it in my heart pictures too.
A Silent Noise spoke to me,
“Behold, how good and wonderful our God is, that even man’s thought can’t compliment such a wonderful scenery.”
In heart, I replied,
“To Thee be The Glory, For Your Goodness Endureth Forever. AMEN.”
@SilentNoise
We pen as we receive it…
