Author: Saatoe

A Ghanaian expat trying to adult in Europe. I write to work through the ramblings of my mind. Many references to therapy, work etc. Joy is spontaneity, love, laughter, plants and laughter.

Of thorns and roses

It sprung up in a long warm spring
Along a much used road. Fed by the fertile earth and warm sunlight, it grew in beauty. It grew so enchanting that passersby would stop to to admire it on their journeys with a few writing sonnets about its charm. Summer only made its delight that much sweeter. Winter came, stayed a little too long and the flower survived. You see, to survive, sacrifices were made, resources diverted.
Spring came once again and with it, the passersby. Revulsion replaced enchantment, though they did nothing to help. Accustomed to admiration, the flower further coiled inwards, hardening even further. It wished for winter to come. And when the days grew long and dark, it start with itself. Embraced the landscapes etched by hardship, the thorns formed in self protection, shedding the need for validation. In the Spring, it bloomed again. This time, a surrounding itself with a circle of thorns.

Leaving

I have always hated people leaving me
They came knocking persistently
Until I let them in, only to stay a few moments
Then pack up and leave
I remember each moment
The pre-k bff who found more colorful pals
The cousin drowned by grief
High school best friend who found somebody else
The uncle and aunties who stopped calling
And the parents, who shelved all emotion
These days, I am the one who leaves
Pieces of me are spread out across three continents and myriad countries
With barely a backward glance for
I finally understand the truth
I am the only one who will stay

Me

I don’t want a life spent running from the unknown. Chasing after what is expected instead of digging deep to discover what I need. I want to flourish, unashamed and unabashed in my truth with thrills perfectly planned for me. I want to wake up most days a joy that is bone deep with the knowledge that the life I’ve built is a glorious dream. Maybe my deepest desires will align with the expected, maybe they won’t. I hope to be courageous enough to pursue most of those desires which fall outside the margins. I want to be happy on the best days and content for majority of the rest, secure that I did not sacrifice more of me than I could afford to lose!

Empires

They talk of empires with silk roads
And elegant rulers
Seated on golden thrones

Proclamations are made of brave warriors
Conquering heroes
Bringing vast riches and lands

Populated by acclaimed artists, builders
Lasting monuments
Never before seen

We read about their glories, act out their histories
Nearly brushing over
The stories kept dark

Bowed heads and misshapen hands
Have no place in the tellings
For how would we dream
Knowing the cost?

For empires will not exist without
Those who dream their joys
And unsee the gore

Bliss?

Bamboo leaves rustling in the fierce wind

Melodious calls to prayer at noon in foreign lands

Simple bliss in watching the sun shine it’s light upon the earth

It’s the wind, softly fanning exposed thighs

There will be no mention of darkness

Not even of blood crying out from the earth beneath ever musical feet

A Naming

To name a thing is to claim it

Perhaps it is what we lacked, the naming

For our herbs, dances, food, people

Though we did name them, in tongues familiar to us

 

So, where did we misstep?

It seems, without power, naming is nothing

To own a thing by naming, the name must be in the language of power

And our familiar tongues had little

Abyss

Cages

Fashioned to hold the unique

One for the 5 year old missing her mother

Another for the optimist

And yet one more for the faithless

Locked tight with keys to guard against the abyss

But the line fell and the abyss stepped in

Wreaking cages, letting in chaos

The girl, the abyss wrangled and tangled

Became a free, worn thing

Not quite whole and far more so

Winter blues

The winter arrived with frost covered winds, icy streets and darkness

And for giggles, it brought along with it a lovely dose of the oft heralded winter blues

Blues just deep enough to drive one to sink beneath the covers, drink hot cocoa and indulge ones flaky tendencies

Blues light enough to be driven back with a few swallowed tablets to mimic the sunshine and joy found in the light

Though the December remains dark, it ends with the promise of glad tidings and sheets of snow

Laughter, hope, peace and the delicious certainty of a year neatly wrapped with many blessings

Thus I find myself bursting with gratitude in this year’s cold, icy, dark days!

Merry Christmas to you and yours.