Laughter Had Me Opening My Mouth Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

When I was in mission school
Laughter was my best friend.
I laughed at nuns who tried
To pretend there was no love
And wondered why they should
Do such.

I laughed at teachers not sure
That my life would lead me in
That direction. Now I laugh at
Myself. I open my mouth and
Laugh and think about the things
That were not supposed to be done
Which I did anyway, like dancing
In mission school.

Laughter had me dancing facing
Away from the nun at the door who
Was looking at the other girls
On their bunks who were surprised
What an unsaved person like me
Was doing in this land where the
Body never dances, but sings
Hallelujahs.

I dived into my bed when I found out
That I was the actress on a stage
Doing the heathenous dance of the
Year. Little did I know I could
Enter the books of the nun as the
Most unsaved, lost, irredeemable
Of the earth. As life would have
It I recovered and became a better
Sheep hence I am still searching
And hoping God will find me worthy
For he never writes his own sheep off.

I stand still opening my mouth
Laughing as this friend of mine
Imitates the bell at one o'clock
With her mouth closed because
Nobody will know where the sound
Came from.

My laughter ends as the nun decides
Never to open her mouth in our class
For we are so God forsaken she has decided
To mum it until the boy decides to sing
Percy Sledges's Come Softly Darling, When
The song calls the lover to, come to me,
The nun asks who the great musician is
And this boy stands up and is told to
Go down the two-storied building and
Sing till we hear him upstairs. We go
To the window to watch him under the poplar
Tree singing and then realize he has
Ended the stale mate for we have learned
The lesson that it is wrong to make a
Teacher angry. Quite a lesson, was it not?

Sadly, we left the school still wet behind
The ears and went to the world unequipped
For the maladies out there where we were
Urged to be the salt of the earth and also
Its ever flickering light. You read today
What I do to try and keep the fires burning
For I was told to go out there and throw
Ideas in the air like rain on a stormy
Day. Yet the storm in me starts to be a
Drizzle when you fail to take heed and start
Coming home so we can light one warm fire
Together before the storms of life get in
Through the kitchen door.