After the storm, I listen—
To the last whisper of rain spreading stories
Of why people walk and don't fly;
To the final game of lightning sticks
The earth plays with the sky;
To the frogs and the crickets
And the mosquitoes and the dragonflies
Singing in the shadows;
To the ruffle of my blanket as I climb out of bed,
Into the new outside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good start with a nice poem, Phiwokuhle Mpendulo Manana. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.