The Dry Season Poem by Kenneth Maswabi

I have searched everywhere for precious poems
I have been inside the hall of my imagination
I have listened attentively to the silence within
I have even looked deep into the world of dreams
I peeped through the thick fog of consciousness
I even ransacked the bedroom of my emotions
I came out empty handed
I came out without my precious poems
I can only kneel down inside the emptiness of my heart
And pray for this dry season to pass