somewhere. somewhere.
on the other side/ making its way to you
making its way across the night’s thickening plot
somewhere/ somewhere/ on this same spot, someone is looking up.
to someone, somewhere right this moment,
the distance means nothing, means everything if you mind it,
means nothing. somewhere, somewhere
darkness looms, assailing the night
a face is smiling and someone is laughing.
someone is dying. someone is being born
somewhere, somewhere a light leads out of a tunnel
the earth is spinning, the moon contends a greed
which flatters to stars
all that the sun would claim
somewhere/ somewhere a quake pulls off the root
to grow a garden from the little seeds of your heart
somewhere
somewhere.
winds are glazing over/ discovering the intent of each sprout
and somewhere, time carries on moving as always
somewhere/ somewhere. a tree takes to anchor,
roots push through death and stretch towards heaven,
with a call to life somewhere. somewhere.
despite itself, a grain knows that the light calls to it
that somewhere, a stone is rolled away
the seas of earth part with their red awnings across the sky
/somewhere. somewhere a tree stands by the water
& time opens to the fruit of said labor – only somewhere
draught breathes like wind
juggernaut. silent. calm. tousling the breast
for something tried and tested
– a breeze. coos in the shade beneath a strap of eucalyptus.
this quiet strength,
it will not wither – nor will its leaf
Simon Ng’uni is a 27-year-old Zambian writer. He studies Computer Science at Copperbelt University. Simon’s writing has appeared in the Writer’s Space Africa Magazine and Poetic Africa Quarterly Magazine.
