My Hand Drew Me Nearer Poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema

my hand drew me nearer

my hand drew me nearer
to my word, blue in color
my land knew its bearer
than the few in matter
my trend grew so clearer
by noon
and knew its bearer
by the moon
i knew my barrier
than soon
to my carrier

i blew the word in spoken kind
like a chariot when the seeds i find
were grained on my feed to the blind
eye that seen the few
than you,
and my hand still drew nearer
to my word,
red in color and clearer
than the red in my blood
like the monkey, climbed up to reward
but the more he exposed the reward
the few he could offer to reward
himself a coward

as spoken
i spoke to speak
as i speak
to pick
my body weak
to reach
the green in my garden
to feed
my need
to wish
and seek
as i need,
and the palm
on my hand so pale
in color,
the cells to my brain
so weary as the years gone by, in pain…
how can i not speak?
if my hand can draw nearer
the word i speak…
and foot to find a place in my heart as i speak
a word to remain by the footprints
and fade away as years gone by.

opn24012013/1750

book: 'footprints'
year: january 2013
book no.1 of 2013

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