It lay there
Among the debris
Of yesterday;
Breathing heavily with
Tightly shut eyes,
Cold and forgotten.
A pile of white
Shrouded hastily neat.
A thin layer of flannel
Obscuring its limp body
In a trashed mould.
A cry rose into the night
Stirring the impregnated silence;
Leaves shook, twigs broke free,
Rivers ceased flowing,
Chaos grew like the west winds.
Subtle as the night sky,
The brown skin glowed,
And the folks paid heed.
They rubbed its tiny feet
And kissed it clean,
Naming it: ‘The child of dreams’.
7verina 