I wrote this about a year ago for Wangari Mathai

Whispering Willows

I sit, staring out of the window
Looking past the willows,
Swaying in the mild and mellow wind,
Swaying like whispering palm trees,
Whispering soft calls for salvation,
Whispering soft sighs, longing for self preservation,
Whispering…
“I know he’s coming!
Can you hear him?
I know he’s coming,
Coming to cut me down,
To hack through my skin,
To watch me bleed and not care,
Coz it’s all right as long as no one stands and calls this unfair.

Wait! You can do it! You can be the one!
You can defend me
You can make him go away!”

I’m taken aback,
Unsure of how to respond,
Why me? Why do I have to do the defending?
I need defending!

I feel a churning in my stomach,
Feels like that ‘fear of the unknown’ kind of feeling,
That all too well known kind of feeling,
That ‘afraid to get up on stage’ kind of feeling,
Like that ‘how can I pick you up when I’m kneeling’ kinda feeling

I want to back out, back up,
Sit back, rewind, get out of the way,
Do anything but sit down, and stick this through,
Do anything but stay
I want to wait, at least until tomorrow,
Why??
Coz this isn’t easy!!
Its never easy, the walk to action is never easy.


I reminisce,
It was so easy, back in the day…
Yeah, it’s always easier back in the day
Why else would people sing song like
“Bring back those simple days of, yesterday…”
But is it really? I think not!
Coz when my eyes emerge from behind the veil,
And the smoke screen of illusion and fantasy is pushed aside
I see that yesterday is just as hard as today is just as hard as tomorrow,
Is just as beautiful as yesterday, today and tomorrow,
But the fact is, all we have is today
Not tomorrow,
Not yesterday,
Just today
I know it’s not easy
But as Nelson Mandela said
“There is no easy walk to freedom”

Scenes flash before my eyes
It’s the whispering palms again
They are speaking to me again!
This time not with words but through pictures
Pictures strung together with invisible seams
Pictures strung together to form scenes
Scenes too harsh and terrible to put back into words
Words lack the weight to express the hurt
Hurt so deep it threatens to drown me, leaving me aimlessly drifting into oblivion

I think I finally understand
Because now as I see the man approaching,
Wielding his axe high in the air, like a soldier ready for battle
I shudder at the thought of what I know I am about to see

The axe begins its ominous decent
3 NO! Don’t do it!!!

2 STOP!! You don’t understand!!!

1 STOP!!!!
BANG!!

I cringe as I see the axe sink six inches into the willow
And I hear the familiar crack of breaking bark and splitting skin
But alas!
The tree doesn’t bleed!
Instead, a steady stream of red comes coursing out of the mans side,
The blood is dark, as if tainted with sadness
I finally understand

So I turn back to the willows
Swaying in the mild and mellow wind, as the North wind bellows
Swaying like whispering palms that speak in my dreams
Whispering soft calls for salvation
Whispering soft sighs, longing for self preservation
I turn to them and say,
“I WILL defend you.”