Our Healing

We are the graphites in the frames of the Creator. we are the gifts hidden in laments.
we are the clays of echoed sorrows; in tears,
in warm hearts— we are unbelievably divine.
maybe we have not learnt to know
to understand that our presence is a gift to touching hearts
touching hearts on sublime clouds. We are the broken pieces of peace
the peace which got trapped in our lips
we, sons and daughters of colours, are the peace
that got butchered during the Treaty of Fomena.
peace like an owl’s song,
hope like a vulture’s dream,
grace like a kitchen rag’s believe,
We are the sonnet written under love spells
love spells that heal wounded souls. love that floods memories of broken-homes
love that writes out of no reckons; of pains and regrets
We are the souls of this world
we are the cleaners of spilled dreams,
we are the tailors of torn towns, cities and villages
we are the sowers of daily smiles
smiles of graceful mushrooms
It is in us, the middle course of the River,
that the healing we long for our Society lies.

NANA ARHIN TSIWAH