WORD and SOUND part 1
The word. What word need I tell?
What song need I sing when broken hearts surrounded me like an orphan?
Drowning beneath silent rivers and deeper than my toes could handle,
Scary nights tortured my silence as though it were just a mere dream,
And the child in me told me to be grounded like a soldier’s sacrifice,
For strangers know not their stranded days hunted. For word and sound decided
Their fate in my blood stream, my bloodline, my lineage, ancient days united;
In the modern kind, the musical kind, the lyrical and metaphorical tongues.
I could feel my nerves persuaded by the rhythmical madness, my stubborn heart
Crawled beneath the walls of an ancient rhythm, the natural vibe, the musical vibe,
My fingers were dancing like pieces of a songbird,
The sound. The word. For sound is word.
And word is sound. Our sound. Word sound.
The imagery is little known before dawn;
When tomorrow crawls at distant near before gone.
What song need I sing?
What poem there is for me to recite before sunset shadows?
Or breathe like Mother Nature’s word and sound?
What human am I to deceive the other?
Do monkeys betray like humans do? Do they? Not so?
Don’t you wish you could do as monkeys do? Don’t you?
Would you dare listen to the music from the heart beat?
The sounds it makes, the patterns, the word, the heart beat…
O word of my mother’s mouth piece;
The servant of word in sound but parables and phrases,
Your word is flowery, sparkles and sprouts through but all seasons;
In ancient voices of the gone. The gone.
Our ancestral songs chanted behind the sun down,
The storyteller sound, the word.
Onalethuso Petruss Buyile Mambo Ntema
The Voice of a Shadow, 2017