In Honor of Linke

Recently one of my dearest friends from South Africa has been going through a rough time. When we were living in Paris together she taught me about Africa. We had two friends from Zimbabwe as well, and between the three of them, I learned so much about their Third World continent. Linke wants to be one to fabricate change for her continent, and for this and so many other reasons, I love her to death.

The following poem is a simple one I wrote on our balcony in Paris, inspired by Linke. (I had also just read The Long Walk to Freedom, the autobiography of Nelson Mandela, and attended a Mugabe protest in London)

 

i dream for africa.

 

my eyes are wide

my vision blurred

 

if you look closer

you will see

her people are more

than a map.

 

my hope stretches

like a dancer

twirls and twirls and

tangles with

How?

 

if you stretch

you will feel

her hunger.

 

my hands are weak

my fingers small

 

if you reach

you will touch

the untouchable,

her children.

 

my mouth is no longer

silent.

my voice speaks

 

if you listen

you will hear a whisper

Help us.

 

if you love

we will wake

from this dream.

 

I rise for Africa.