This poem was dedicated to Nelson Mandela on news of his death. A tribute to a great man whose strength we will all miss.
An ode to an elder statesman
The radio is buzzing, sawing away
proclaiming the news of the day
and I am wasted, thinking sombre
thoughts while picturing a flock
of birds dancing in the sky, their
cawing a silent message to the
heavens to open up and set another
seat at God’s right hand.
Here where we are watching all
is misery and quiet contemplation
laying carnations outside his gate
but he doesn’t live here anymore
somewhere an empty cell carries
traces of him, pacing its narrow
walls crying out with quiet eyes
and heavy heart for a peace that
seemed far out of sight.
We lit the home fires and sat
together to talk of better things
than the bitter hand of death
of a life much like the sea sometimes
loving, sometimes fierce but ever
moving, tearing down the stones
that tried to hold it captive with
talk of years upon their lips now
cages open and freedom becomes
a solemn promise that is left to
one’s own children.
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