Is there a kind of too much that is enough?
Is there a kind of angry that is calming?
Is there an amount of hurt that soothes?
How many tears will make a smile?
How much more firewood till the fire burns me?
Forgive the winds for blowing so cold,
And reminding me of life in the mountains snow.
Allow the sea to wash back filth,
For there is more where it came from.
Praise the sun for scorching me dry,
I need to not look up or stay out for long.
Bless the dark clouds for the rain,
And beating me sane.
Bless the dark clouds for the rain,
And making me run home.
—
Hakeem Adam, is a creative, blogger and in-house writer at Circumspecte.
Circumspecte offers insights and perspectives on business, development, lifestyle, culture, careers and human interest issues related to Africa and Africans.