Plains of imagination

Haven’t been myself of late
Don’t even know who I am no more
Haven’t been home in a while
The little I know
Tells home isn’t a random number on an arbitrary street
Crescent or road
It isn’t a name of a country estate
Or a vast farm on an undulating landscape
Home is where the furniture resonates with your soul
When I speak of furniture
I refer to the people who decorate lifeless walls
Bring life into architectural expression
Brothers and sisters afflicted with artistry
Those who share my passion
My love affair with the alphabetic putty
Wordsmiths who appreciate my desire
To craft emotion into a picturesque landscape
With textures and layers
Fabrics of camouflage
Hiding behind syntax and meaning
The context of my words
Found in the meanings my brothers and sisters derive
Home is where you find comfort
Maybe like me
Your home is a café
Where you can spray your graffiti
Colour the wall as you like
And watch your words bounce off the wall
Ideas sprout like seedlings in spring
I found my home in your hearts
Plains of imagination

knox mahlaba
Copyright © 2016
Author of Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit


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