Category: Poetry

HIS TIMING

Have you ever waited for something for so long that you get tired of waiting? Then, somewhere along the way you remember that there is such a thing as different seasons and the “right” time for something to come to life? I wrote this poem from such a place and time in my life, a few years ago. It’s addressed to God. You are welcome to say it and address it to Him too.

Your Timing

Teach me to be in sync with your seasons.

That I may be, always submitted,

Obedient to your word.

Teach me of your glory in your grace;

Of the splendor of being committed,

Covered by your peace.

Teach me to say thank you for your “no”,

And to appreciate the value of your “wait”

So that I may treasure your “yes” even more.

Teach me of your seasons,

Open my eyes to see the reasons.

May I be content with your timing.

……………………………………………

Be blessed friends. You are being refined in the wait.

With love,

Keziah.

WHAT ARE WE?

Are we our feelings?
That butter-milk fit of emotion
Frothing and beautifully rising…
Culminating in a sense of euphoria!
Or the black pepper anger,
Poured in maximum quantities
Dulling our senses.

Are we our bones?
The structure that holds us together,
Helps us stand and not crumble;
The skeleton of flesh,
Curved out with ingenuity,
From the day of inception.

Are we our senses?
The five that we know:
Sight, smell, touch, taste, hearing –
On which we rely for perception and direction.

Are we our blood?
The oxygen-filled red that flows in our veins,
Giving our hearts substance for beating,
Regulating our breath.

Are we our possessions?
The things that give a sense of security:
Cars, houses, money –
The pretty, the flashy and dashing items.

Intricate beings,
Floating in shallow waters:
Not swimming in the deep,
Not standing with mountains.

If flesh gives birth to flesh,
Shouldn’t spirit give birth to spirit?

We are not our skin:
Neither it’s tone not texture.

We are not out lips:
Not its words, nor movement.

Our very substance is more than we think we know.
Our truest nature is beyond this surface.

We are, we are, we are.

This piece was first published in Badilisha Poetry Exchange, an online magazine on https://badilishapoetry.com/keziah-elaine-ayikoru/ . I recite an audio version of the poem documented too by the magazine. Follow the link.

Feature photo from Pexels.