Riding The Tide
Makinde Kehinde Margret@kehindemargretmakinde
3 days ago
Everything here is air over water,
and so is she
staking her life
on lily-like strides
upon the waves.
She loves to smell them,
like they love to smell her
but neither speaks.
How could they?
She has no place to be but this:
right on top,
where it peeps
even when the whole world comes to it.
Today,
they come to chase after their offsprings,
to run into the arms of their lovers,
to capture moments with their hands
their fingertips against screens
or wooden pulps.
Others search within it,
in their minds,
trying to birth their first
or next
bestselling books.
But they make no difference to it
until she is there.
When the setting sun is tucked in bed,
the particular stars that are her family
rise.
They stay right above it
but she is nearer than near
to any lover of nature.
Riding it
on the tide,
where it lifts her
as though she might flip
and be forgotten
like curls,
curves,
or chords
that once lived.
It waits.
It does not waste a peep.
on those who have left,
or are walking by,
calm
polished as glass
until she comes
with her soft pastoral whistle,
coming the same way
she has come every other day.
Then it lifts
in a surge
to welcome her.
And the play of its life begins:
till her curls and clothes
tell she has been there,
intoxicated with the fun of the day.
And then it too
can lie down
and call it a day
the moment it can no longer see
a figure
dancing away
on a pastoral whistle.
#nirclepoets
#nircle
#poetrychapbook
#naturedance
#pastoralwhistle
#water
#air
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