Don’t forget to pray, The night is long & quiet, He’ll hear you now, And he’ll hear you best, So don’t forget to pray. I know you tend to worry, But the promise will not tarry. Close your eyes, Whisper your fears, He’ll hold out his hand, And carry you through, Just don’t forget to pray.
She says my name like I’ve never heard it Like it’s a promise and a song Mysterious and shrouded in awesomeness I’m expectant and eager to hear it. She says my name like she’s getting ready to wear it, To make it her own. Her lips carry it out into the world like a gift, I receive it like it’s a new and beautiful thing. She says my name like she picked it out for me, Like she’s picked it out for herself.
If you’d told me, 7 or 8 year ago when I started sharing my writing via my blog, that I’d be actually write a book, I’d have dismissed the idea with a laugh. But here were are, an anthology of poetry and prose, that tells a story, exists out there in the world. I have so many of you to thank, for reading and appreciating my writing. Looking back, I realise there was so much more I could have written and a lot more I could have kept. Please, if you’re so inclined, “B.ridge Over Waters” by Tsungai (thepoet) Marandure is available on Amazon now, and the ebook goes live in 2 days, on what would have been my dad’s 66th birthday. (Link in post)
Letters to Ada (5)
Isn’t it odd? The first thing that came to mind when I thought about you were the words “I miss you”. I am one of those people who believes in comfortable silence. We don’t have to be constantly exchanging texts; there needn’t be a perpetual stream of voice notes and…
Letters to Ada (4)
A premonition is defined as a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. This is what I told you was on my mind, the premonition that I might not make it to my 30th birthday. When I spilled these thoughts all over our conversation that morning…
Letters to Ada (2)
Can you tell that I don’t sleep much these nights? Maybe not. I’m sure you’re asleep. We’ve already said our good nights, and yet here I am, droopy eyed yet wide awake, half watching and half listening to Tiny Desk Concerts on YouTube. Jorja Smith brought me here. I stumbled…