How does a mustard seed appear before us? Not as a tree, with leaves tickling falling Sun rays into laughter in greens and yellows, And rainbows in beautiful forest lushness. A man once invited his friends to cannibalize Their way to heaven; offering himself to them, And their stomachs popped out their eyes And spun them round to perceived sanity, And muttering they walked away from their belief, Now too gory to hold, leaving without any grief. Sensing danger, he tapped the hands of the tag team, Where temptation was strong, and the flesh Was being torn for fear of tearing at its seams On the way to the renovation store up the hill. Oh how sound they slept and ignored his behest, And slept and slept like all this was just a test. As time stood still to catch his final breath Of pardon, as Word became Word, and flesh stayed To feel the Earth shudder at this one death, Darkening, rending, only three teared, dismayed. From 12 and more, just 3 saw the spear hit mercy Between the ribs. Only 3 dared to show their faces. As the body formed after a miracle three days later, And those who feared came back to said body, Renewing their faith, his uncle had to make encounter With truth while walking away from perceived insanity: As muttering, he and partner walked in disbelief At this so-crazy-to-behold story told to hide grief. How does a mustard seed appear before us? As a mustard seed. It feels the tree eager to burgeon, And comparing itself to what it must show, It knows the truth, and as the world lies With counter-examples and stories of revenge, It holds the truth. It doesn't call for the help Of other seeds. It knows who made it and where Allegiance, hope and growth lie. How does a mustard seed appear before us? One seed at a time, for it's not how many, But if any would stand for God, for Truth Even as the hill promises you Gehenna. (c) nyonglema
What tales are you telling your thoughts today?
Walking to face your Facebook feed elated,
Post pictures of you in Adonis' heyday,
And thumbs up fast to keep reality sedated
Motivational merchants pick them to hawk wares
And tell the youth of paths that lead to heaven
Only the trials you bear beset like grizzly bears
When you close your eyes to walk to heaven.
As if ever anything came from being chained down
They offer hope as: "Be yourself", "Keep your booth"
You fight with Science, seek solace on tainted ground
While soaking pillows in salient prayers with solid truth.
Politically I correct in white blobs the lines
Of the words I wrote for his eyes;
Well, for their ears in a voice so
Powerful it could start wars or more.
“You can’t say this.” The cat purrs
Nonchalant, rubbing against my foot.
It’s hungry, but I can’t say that.
I must say it needs food as I part
With part of my chicken wings.
“You can’t say that.” It claws away,
The poor creature I saved.
It was a sunny hour on a tired day
With sweat camped on my face,
And work slowly eating up my brain.
I saw it homeless…hmmm, no…street camping
With one eye gouged, scraggly fur
And dark…hmmm…coloured blotches.
Compassion picket it up and cleaned it home.
“This just won’t work!” I asked myself
Who’d want it blind…hmmm…of poor sight?
Tended is caked wounds…hmmm…skin lesions
And brushed dirt off its fur. The speech
Was looking whiter and whiter, though.
But it just chewed away like on the fist day,
When delicious milk in my silver bowl slithered
And constricted grave hunger. And I kept
Blobbing out: “weak”, “pain”, “man”, “black”
“Woman”, “white”, “poor”, “rich”, “tears”, “God”.