The Implications Of Insecure Desires Poem by Munashe Rupazo

Simply, brittle as if fervently and slowly as if earnestly, the leaf’s joints cracked bit by bit and marrow by marrow. With all the patience that was observed, painfully as if purposefully, the mother branch wished not to let go. However, Tony broke off from the branch, intending to fly down into the spacious zone, in the parachute of freedom and independence.

Logically leaves do not fall at free will, but in my story this was a different cause. Tony’s choice and desire to fall propelled the bonds to weakness. He detached from the tree, his long lived core source and old playing grounds. Bursting no milky tears as if willingly. He began to fall, bidding the last as if the only farewell to the beloved branches; as if to say goodbye forever.

Down he goes, in curious anticipation. Neither the currency nor the rains disrupt his memorable recede. Not even the shifts in campus affect his seemingly anxious downfall. In his own shoes he goes down to freedom, away from the stagnant ambitions, playmates, sunshine and degrees in Celsius. ‘The site is beautiful from above, though pardon me, my interest complies with the base of beauty’, he would say.
Tony kept falling, this time swinging as if skiing in the air. With the influence of wind he is prone to ballet about, making melodious responses and a good studio with the wind. He dances about with excitement and jovial appreciation, forgetting home. Forgetting independence-ravenous siblings he left behind.

Recently the sky was clear, but now clouds are gathering. Birds are flying back to nests, moths and martins struggle to their residents. Squirrels and chief squirrels march into the bellies of the trunks. The sky is busy and the hawk is there too. Tony is still falling when suddenly panic strikes. Fear grips his tour and hunger begins to suck at his tail. The wind had been friendly, bribing him into the unanticipated world. Thunder wants to play too but is just too big for tiny Tony. He begins to dry in terror. As the world begins to roar in command, he feels non-belonged and needs to go back home.

As he falls, all the sorrow, grief, all fears and stress dehydrate him. He really needs to go back home. For now home is warm, more friendly and comforting. But what goes up must come down and should never go up again.

As Tony at last licks the cold ground with his tongue-like face, he gives into succumb swearing. All the beetles are settled in the soil, the snails are tucked in their tents and no one is there to wake up and play. In his exposed gesture like a hat hung on the hook, he is hooked to the ground forever. There are other old mates (dead leaves) about, but only those that succumbed to similar phenomena of freedom as Tony. He is there to succumb like the rest.

Just because for one moment he thought home was not enough, forever he regrets home was the best. Tony hoped, wished and cried over one thing he desired upon that fateful moment, but he could only do the unwilling. He could only be patient and wait for death to dawn on him like the rest. It was the result of his insecure choice to succumb, so can anybody in the world, if not cautious, fall into similar implications.