Sunday, 14 October 2012

The Letter That Refused to Write Itself

i wanted to write you a letter, fellow pilgrim,
to explain to you this feeling i have, this sojourn i am taking,
to capture the beautiful emotions of this discovery
to spin this story, to tell it softly, tenderly
like a griot

perhaps i would have explained to you
about thum and si ni sisi
for these songs transported me to my ancestors
my ebony-black body streaming with sweat
my feet thumping the ground, resurrecting african rhythm
bonfire lit, the orange hue suffused with night vigour
i will then shake my legs, coaxing the jingle to woo the night
my ostrich feather, like antennae, connecting to the wavelength of my people
the rhythm rising in my body, the tune hitting up the back of my head
every other part of my body attuned to the moment

how will i capture these emotions?
i have been to these hills before, at night,
i would stare down at the sleeping village
in the darkness, i discover myself, my essence
the whisper of the hills is so strange
not a bellow, not a command, just a whisper
and in the morning, the same hills remain aloof
as if they never eavesdropped to me last night!
but every night, we commune silently,
however much i try to write a letter to you
these feelings, these emotions escape me
sometimes some experiences are
best left to the wise counsels of the hills.


The Unknowngnome said...

"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." - Aldous Huxley

And this song sings.

echoesofthehills said...

Huxley and you say it better, TUG.

Thanks a lot. :)

Post a Comment

Echoes of the Hills is all about you. I would love to hear your echo...

You Might Also Like

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Disqus for Echoes of the Hills