The Day I Met The African Spirit Poem by Seema joglekar

Somewhere far West, Apartheid is dead, fog of the mind, they said,
Till from the far-end of a camera, it's sister stark stared,
Zooming on a twister, shrieking, whirling like a rogue elephant
From the limitless expanse, caught in the scowl of the universe malevolent
In a fierce embrace, convulsing clouds bound by their freedom descend,
Over a sky that always seemed farther, on a terribly flat land.
Stretching from the earth to sky, in a whirlpool, extended her funnel
Undecided which way to go, heavens fell in a dazzle,
Hurling defiance to darkness, aloud laughed thunder losing way
The far and the near kissed each other, night had touched the edge of day.
Blazing from within, lightning lifted the shroud of darkness from its soul
Like a hive of trapped angry bees she hummed her drum roll,
Roofs went through the ceiling; beams no longer mocked the skies,
Gravity broke down as strong walls strewed out their confines,
Rebellious foundations lost their resolve, houses razed like snuffed butterflies
Wind scattered memories, The radical heart is dark from wandering, its shadow ominous
The land thrust a fist at God in disgust.

Out of a mist, from the town’s heart, shadows flickered
Only vacant roads knew where to go, it did not take the road,
They said-F-6 was the bad word.
Horror stood rubbing its feet in shame around every corner.
Sullen faces had seen the moss grow
On stony faces as the camera lingered, it was sharply told
‘Don’t show people’. The like a chastened child it hurried
Past white faces almost apologetic.
It dared not look at any more bereaving faces, afraid
End of the town it stopped on a lone African brother
Sitting a top rubble which was once his home, dearer,
It now dared focus head on, into his unfocussed eyes.
While his tear –stained face screamed of his loss, oblivious he sat
He looked up at the camera like a warrior at the end of his fight
striking his final blow. Awareness dawned, out came a glimmer of a smile
through his mourning sorrow.
One rumble on earth couldn’t wipe the centuries of endurance off the man’s face,
The land bore in yearning silence the pain of the skies, the town a dark smudge
The sky stood sinister but closer, drained to a distant grudge.

- -For all my African friends and budding writers.