Spellbound By Yesterday's Village Dance Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

It did not happen for me.
This spellbinding of my two,
who give me hope at sunrise
for we were together, walking
towards our islands.

The sun kept rising urging us on.
Wishing for the new lands, we go
on this forever, ongoing March
for we were spellbound by the
dreams of independence.

Yet now we hold a new truth. It
speaks of new ways. We look for
new spells. Yesterday is gone and
we stand in the now holding peace
by the tail. Hunger, poverty are a
yearning that goes on. Who said we
would one day wipe away tears while
we rub our hands together and still
be wishing forfuture of freedom.
These wishes have us spellbound as
if we are lost in this big field where
we receive the wild kicks of our own
independence. Yes we remain spellbound
by yesterday's wishes.





Why dance when the drummer has turnrd


off the drums. Yesterday we daned.

A different dance in unison. Now it
is each person for himself in the arena.
To free ourselves is to jump high.
To claim our turn is to speak loud.
Lest we remain a people who had hope
but did not use it. A people singing
when the drummer long ceased to play
the tunes of our village.