Singing Songs Of The Future On The.Mountain Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

Hearing the years ahead of
me, sung to me in soft lullabys,
I walk the listener hearing tunes
sung by happy faces, I saw in
daily smiles that touched the
amber in my fired up heart,
and had me speak words hot,
that they started a war of
words.

The echo of the service of
people who started the fire,
and left amber and tinder
that could burn.

This fiery seeing burning
songs seared onto my lips and
keeping me pouring fire,
into those whose chambers
are to light up forests.

Give tinders to those who
stand on the mountain top,
and burn rocks and roll them down.
The fire will shake the hills
with a wave.

Now the forest burns for years,
in this calling us to create fumes,
that were not dampened down with
the cries of nations. Let
the song and fire go on singing
and blow the horn when on a
fiery trail.

This baritone could not have
been sung, for the tinders that
were in visions lost. My listening
was lost. To wake up a path of truth
in others shouts in the depths of wells. Then
voices rise and call all th the
mountain.

To reach a few is to reach a mountain,
for once there was one tree where the
forest grows. Shaking trees is the work
of the wind. Invisible it blows as if
requested to let it move and shake tall
trees and short ones. This trail was not
born of love. It winds down wind blown
and fired up by pasts equally merciless.

To give birth to the future is to swear
we have been through trials fired and
burnt just our eyebrows for we can still
see ahead, on this march to a new making.
Paths new and only trailed by footsteps
burnt leave marks everywhere, a history
telling itself.







Like the years ahead in the