The Burning Water

This river will not hold me back
Fire may burn, I’ll walk on water
Through the forceful wind I’ll totter
I’ll pull my strings and never get slack

Beneath my skin
Blood seethes
Like an angry wife
Beneath my deep
An untapped real
Waiting to be seen.

This burning water feeds my lack
These perspiration dots matter
Even in their ugly splatter
They hold finesse; lines that don’t crack

Alive in the rain
In panting droplets of heaven
Revived in the pain
The healing balm of patience
Rejoice in your frame
And the stories you will tell

Wannan wakar rana ne
Bayan hadari, ruwa zai fado.

Vera