Sieving The Wind
I bet most of you didn't know that all the posts under the subheader "poetry" on the blog was/ is written by my husband. (Iron sharpeneth Iron). Most of them were written to me in times past when letters were the true way to a girls' heart, not money, obscenely gyrating hips, or swear words.
In those days, one's ability to get a girl's attention was judged by intellect, hence the reign of love letters et al.
Anyway, I have a veritable treasure cove of letters from my beloved written over the years. I decided to use this platform to share them and the feelings they invoke/provoke with you and yet immortalize his words and feelings for me in digital print for the future generations to see and KNOW!
Click on the header MILLAREMEMOIRS and the subheader under it "POETRY" to see all the previous letter posts
Sieving The Wind
I once stood before that door without a place to knock
Which leads to an address where laughter is paid for
There, words are born as sighs
And it’s with pain that you pay for hope’s hospitality
You are never led there by some fiend peddling desire
Rather you earn your stay by indulging that one last guilty pleasure of habit
For all around us, there are plenty which seduces us
Seemingly aiming to stop this strange custom of breathing
But as I stood there with a weary grip on moment’s compass
I glimpsed your lovely face from afar and knew at once
That you are my destiny in waiting
Hence, although sometimes genes and inherent instincts bring forth the wrong words and actions
I promise here and now
That I’ll keep pushing experience and feelings which are layers deep to the forefront
Until I’m wholly all that you dream of in a companion
T, what we have is as rare as tears from a ghost
And I have come to truly love you dearly
Now, the future is no longer bleak and uncertain
For I do not again entertain the thought
That someday this bond of ours might come undone
And as long as we love and cherish each other
For both of us, all our heart desires
And equally, greatness will always be in season.
Words: Chidozie Onuoha
Photography: Jefferson Arebun
Post a Comment