At Which Hour Does The Night Poem by LLM Mbatha

At which hour does the night
Stop dreaming about daylight
When does the heart return from
Its foolish wonderings
To let the mind take control
When does love forgive itself
In order to realize that hope is only fools' gold
As the rainbow is their road
Were it not for these bright colored
Pictures we took, or for other peoples’ memories
I’d think that, maybe I imagined everything
Love at first sight, no such a thing!
Immaculate beauty, no such a thing!
Was it in mid July?
December rains are falling down
Feeding the ancient streams of the giant Table
Steady winds cut through the bone
Into the marrow with a narrow
Blade of temperature
I picture the snow falling all over the Fuji
36 hours from the foot of the Table
I feel like a mountain, -!
I dreamt of you last night
Playing the games of foolish days
The Hand that made the flowers
Bright, made your face more radiant
And of me—O me! The cheering eye!