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My Mother's Story
Fidel Ohirimeh |
You taught me all that I know, how to be strong and wise, to be cautious at all times.
Often life proves so hard, I am drawn so mercilessly and for so long that I think I can no longer bear an ounce more.
One time I assumed the foolish notion that I understood things. The things around me at least. I had answers to, or so i thought. Now that I know better; I know that one and one isn't always two. I know it is more than meets the eyes and life isn't only skin deep. On this conclusion I find myself again seeking answers to even the simplest questions.
When will it all end? This trek through darkened tunnels, through dirt littered roads and deserted windswept streets, through these concrete valleys with nothing but the broken windowpanes of once crowded cities with long buildings serving as hills.
I can tell you this one thing for sure. When the wind blows it blows in my heart.
These visible emptiness is a mirror image of the turmoil inside of me. The answers I seek are quite simple ones. This peace I search for, was it not suppose to come easy?
Love, warmth! A modest home were coffee is hand made and supper is served hot.
This is indeed foolish thinking for I know now that such things are more elusive than rainbows. Than the place where the colors are proposed to terminate.
My mother once told me a silly story.
Men of their village gathered themselves and set off to find where rainbows touch the ground. Where the brilliant colors meets with earth.
It was thought that to wound it with axes and machetes would cause it to bleed riches in precious jewels, trinkets and gold coins. What foolish notion, much like the silliness we chase after nowadays. You and I know that the rainbow never touches the ground that celestial colors never kisses earth. To need love to search for it and to find it is to die.
The world isn't capable of such niceties.
Not anymore.
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