Saturday, 18 April 2026

What The Water Gave Me

 

"But you will live in [Durban], where the ocean protects you" 

- Sello K. Duiker


On this side of the earth, inner silence rules the grey bays

Our lamentations, and despairs are lost to breaking waves

Immovable objects are other people, but we are the waters 

Waters that weave between their rigidity to our destinations

The ocean is calling to us, so we shush our protesting defeats

So we can hear our names mist and spray across Umhlanga 

We've broken ourselves against its rocks so our jagged edges

Gleam in the sunlight, rubbed to humility with humidity

The sand, the vehicle taking us towards the throat of the sea

The seat of our calling where algae cushions, seaweed garlands

The shock of our skin leaving it to form a crown of obsidian

The queens and rightful heirs of an inheritance of ocean

This mirror of surviving, of thriving at the very shorelines

Of our existences. We live. We live. We live. Bow down


Slipping my dress over my head, I draw myself even closer

Look back and see a woman resembling Ingrid Jonker

Wink at her acknowledging our shared plights and purposes

I'm risking the wet of life so that she does not have to

Defeating her drowning and turbulences to free her

The throne is missing a jewel, the love we both carry

Ruling over a yawning adulthood, the work has only just begun


No comments:

Post a Comment