The Days Will Come

The days will come 

to hold yourself like a tender morning 

somewhere you have never travelled 

You will trace the first light 

Like a bird who knows nothing to come,

a nomad of sorts that counts colours and sky

and you’ll ponder:

How did I reach here,

deserving this moment of absolute calm, and solitude?

And a memory of her 

will land

Like an African wish

In that desperate beauty of dawn 

Eyes indecipherable that

soften now — that moist

The light brown that turns green 

And the heart

To hear now

how it pounds

A little louder.