The Silent Bride Poem by Silivester Kiik

i/
in every corner of the dry and foreign city
wild and silent-watching every word
that men talk about
while the women silently weave them in tears.

every time I see the rainy season flooding orchid petals
I tremble-bent against the wall
watching every debris that flows
as if washed from the soil of the plough
faster than a shadow on a stormy day.

ii/
on every sunflower shoot
I saw the feathers of two butterflies fall down
without turning round and asking
'is what is left behind a gift to every gazing eye? '
like water droplets that are lost in every gust
and the footpaths bear witness to the story.

I close my eyes for a while-to remember today's departure
some clang in the heart, some break, some crack into pieces
but on the veranda of the field
there is still something that holds together-the rustle of mud
and everything I don't know.

iii/
I am like a silent bride
gliding down the straight road
hunting for every wound that wants to go with the twilight
blushing like blood wine
that glistens from the altar of the gods.

I want to repeat the rain
while picking up the ground
where stories are made
and other little things that I have prepared
to plant life in the fields of tomorrow.

Atambua,11 March 2024