Replying to Wood
Poem
You were tall, right on the verge of greatness;
A wall waiting for you at a penthouse in Sandton,
A hundred books dreaming of your arrival,
A hundred books you, you drowning in words,
You forever living on after your tall tales
That speak of long battles with a hundred swords.
You were designed for days and days;
Created from the minds of man, created for man.
The whole world knew all your names:
Oaks and Maples, Walnuts and Cherries,
Hickory, Fir, Bamboo, sticks.
You were carved into precious metals,
Turned into the many miniature treats of known perfection,
The whole world loved you in many shapes and sizes:
As the faces of our African heroes, kings, and queens,
As a thousand cultures hand-carved and set in stone.
You were beautiful beyond any words,
Strong and here every season.
I would play songs and pray by your side.
I would drink my coffee and watch the stars,
And you, my oldest friend, are great chairs.
Author's Notes
I wrote this poem and it's by far my absolute favourite one. I simply like to write about the objects and things around us, giving them a voice and a life of their own. Because I really do believe they have that. Because they are that beautiful, that valuable, and sometimes smell that really good.
I really hope you like it too. If you did like it that much, you can also have a look at I am This Tree and Hands. Both poems have this similar feeling. There is also more to enjoy on my profile here.
If you made it this far, I do wish you a lovely day always.
Okay, a lovely day to you as well – you who is living their life normally, not knowing that my writing exists. Peace.
