Ebola, The African Plague Poem by Munashe Rupazo

It is not every tear that glitters,
Neither is every curse tied to positive tides,
But it is only the positive tide that glitters.

It is not every damnation that flees,
It is not every succumbing dream that prevails,
Neither, nor, does every pathogen have medical cure.

Suffice to say…
Whatever it is that could
Would flee and restoration would prevail.
Not according to theories of fate
But in the dwelling practice of faith.

A threat to my nation is here.
A sting chases the pride of my nationality.
They have fallen victim to tragedies of gossip
And scandalmongers that travel greater than avouch itself.
They have sunk knees to the ground in heartless fears
And challenged death by immature desires.

I have seen tears fall like River Zaire,
And cascaded to the bellies of the rain forest.
As if it was not enough…
I have seen them abandon their own homes
To reside in the wild, with blind enemy.
They have taken too much fear for breakfast.
Even more for lunch,
And starved the rest of the night.
Their memories recall nothing better
Than their hearts loyally record the exponential pulse rate

If it were possible to paint a rainbow in their hearts
‘For we can be saved from fowlers and snares,
And from the deadly pestilence.'
If it were possible to shade the sun in their lives.
‘To erase the fear of terror of night
And of the arrow that flies by day.'

If it were possible, to tell them what David would have in Psalms 91
‘Nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
Nor of the plague that destroys at night.'

But here I am,
Holding sufficient hope between my breathing lungs
And looking up into the heavens late at night.
As they starve themselves out of oblivion.