For many days we were in a journey of two,
We had been walking through a story together,
We had held our hearts and hands all along,
We were at the core of a thick forest,
The grassy path seemed to have reached a dead end,
Our eyes could not see the way forward,
Suddenly the rosy blossom started to run back,
I had nos single clue what had gone wrong,
Two prayers in my heart I whispered;
"that there would be another path,
that the rosy blossom would once tell me the story,"
Waited for seconds, minutes and hours - no answer,
Darkness set in slowly but surely,
I set off in a sprint following the rosy blossom,
two prayers in my heart miming,
"will the darkness pause for a while?
Will my feeble legs carry the heavy heart all the way?"
for seconds, minutes and hours - no signs,
Panting loudly my soul sank down,
Went down into my knees in disbelief,
tears rolling down my chicks in deep hurt,
felt like shouting out loud; "the rosy blossom"
Yes! I did indeed shout, with all my voice I did it,
I only heard harsh echoes of my own shouts,
the whole night all alone in the thick forest,
I longed for the one my heart had known.
I stared at the flower we ha carried all along,
In-front of my heart and eyes it slowly withered,
Half of its petals had already fallen off,
I helplessly watched its stalk coil round,
I had been holding it close to my heart all night long,
What a long sorrowful night it had been,
by dawn-break my two eyes were swollen,
I opened the book where our stories we wrote,
my tears had wet the entire story's writings,
Sadly all the writings has faded away,
I sat down and mourned as my hopes got drier and drier,
a hope string I had once held on was all gone,
the faith path appeared and I started leaving the forest.
I had not realized I was already inside the birds body,
flying to a far away land I now knew I was,
In the smoothness of the new path I felt a newness,
the rosy blossom appeared vividly across the screen,
not giving me the ever lovely attention I sighed,
Neither my words nor my smile was noticed,
I needed my piece back and so I humbly asked for it,
She had taken her peace away already when she had run back,
I insisted to be given back but she ignored me,
In anguish I started to walk away leaving it behind,
After a short distance I must get it back,
As I slowly turned back she threw my it towards me,
I so quickly reached to it before it slapped the ground.
Quickly and carefully fitting it back I started to walk away,
I regretted the wasted past as I celebrated the new path,
Carrying the many lessons with me I hoped she also did,
As I bid her goodbye my heart spoke two prayers,
"may she be found by her peace and piece in life ahead
that I too would find my true peace and piece in life,"
I felt a new smooth weight in my jacket's heart pocket,
Carefully reaching my pocket I drew out the smooth weight,
It was a brand new book and a brand new pen,
I knew they were from the Author of my life story,
In gratitude I knelt down and prayed in faith for the story,
I believed it was time to write the story,
at His pace we continue to write and walk it to the end.
By Newton Gatambia,