My Early Teachers
My Early Teachers
Anglican Church, how sweet
The message of your domes,
The spirit of your voice;
The radiant inspirations of your children,
Of which I was a conscious part.
Gifted evangelists,
The tents in which I stood
To listen to your stirring words,
Drove me inwards, to another realm.
O bible, your Saviour died,
So that I would know within,
Life’s true meaning.
And my mother’s spirit of selfless love,
Imitated your divine beauty,
And gave me hope.
The sharp burning cane,
Running through my gentle palm,
Gave me a deep sense of injustice.
On a dark night with searching lights,
A catapult pulled tightly back and shot,
Thus telling me of the bird’s fear and pain.
The rivers, nature, boy’s gentle pranks;
The hermitage of village life,
Instilled my innocent joy
And childlike ways.
And the spirit of my grandparents,
Did teach me love.
-Manatita, March 9th, 2013.