Relationships! Relationships! Relationships! Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

Reeling in dispute yet still relationships,
Of my older siblings and me in the same ship,
Turning and tossing as we get thrown overboard,
One day one leg is in one day it is out,
Yet we are tied by this bond that calls us,
It tells us the road to success is not easy,
We walk it today tomorrow and whenever.
For we are in the thing that relates to itself,
And in time calls itself a relationship.

I know that it is as real as the word itself,
For I tried and and still try it now,
To idealize a mate is what it called me to do,
Call him my knight in golden armor in my heart,
Where no gold had melted but his alone,
While made of triumphs of our making,
We walked into a relationship called closeness.
And ended up on the other side of the river,
But still seeing each other as he went downstream,
For I was steering everything in me upstream.

This thing led us into a future uncertain,
That is when I realized it had no eyes,
It was me who had lost the power to be wise,
For I had seen a future with my eyes,
When they were closed to the things that we were,
And wanted me to see the things that were not,
In this place called my wisdom and his,
For it speaks and makes and then unmakes,
For it is very good at creating the unknown,
And make us walk boldly to any place it leaves us.
Relationships! Relationships! Relationships.

A touching, feeling, and finding of what is not there,
A building of a knot tied and untied for it is strong,
Only when we pull together to strengthen it,
This rope between us biting into our hands,
Leaving us with scars that show we also love,
For we are willing to work at it day and night,
And wake up the sleeping baby inside us seeking,
This quiet of the knot that cannot be undone,
Even when the wail in the night tells us to rise,
And walk into the nursery of our feelings,
For it is here that we can see ourselves,
These diapers speaking and smelling like us,
Relationships! Relationships! Relationships.

We can die for them like the soldier who fought,
And won a medal called a ring in her hand,
At the alter of existence, he laid his sword,
All shining, pointed and silent from use,
Here at the end of his fight against life,
Where he is ready to sit with the dead,
And say life was a battle that I won,
By just being there for there was no contest,
Only to turn up and take the yoke together,
With another walker who wanted to claim me,
As her own the traveler on a journey,
To the end of the fire where it is warm,
And not too close to this end that has called us.

A life is a life when lived and not shelved,
In forgotten stories of love and fights,
But stories of breathing into the space,
Where we talk, cook and boil at each other,
Calling ourselves names under our breaths,
For we did it to the world by agreeing,
That we would do this part well and swore,
That we were the type that succeeds always,
When all was needed was the hope to try,
And get into the giving and taking we do,
When we do for another a deed that builds,
And plants and guards what is ours selfishly,
For tomorrow it must be there to testify,
That we were faithful to the cause of life,
For the proof is not in the tasting of the living,
But in the dish we put on the table for all of life,
To taste as our offshoots give and take,
To a world that gave us the breath we give.

Is it still relating what we do to each other?
Tearing down and uprooting and overthrowing,
Leaving the upside down of the very agreements,
That we made when the eyes so the gold in us
Me saying you are the one I will brush the back of,
With this loofah in my hand this sponge I use,
The way our faithful dog brushes against us on this bed,
Laid by us for us and him to lie in,
And breath together always for it is true,
That a grain of love is all we need to lie here,
And enjoy, the joyous jive of this wagging tail,
That keeps brushing against me as you move closer right now,
To bring out the love of wagging tails,
For all dogs love the sight of their owner
The way they hate the sight of another,
For they growl angrily when they see life,
Taken from them, the bone of meat,
The way we fight over our trifles,
And refuse to share when we agreed
That we would divide every morsel of time,
The deed we were given to handle with care
As we share with each other like now.