WATER
Almost 4 decades ago a man loved a woman. The woman loved the man back and the hopes of something beautiful was born. 3 decades ago, that hope, lost, was found in a child. My father, like a bird in flight, an arrow through my mother’s heart. Me, the redemption, the gift, the proof that 2 miscarriages equal a son. 2 decades ago, I saw mama in love again and the man her heart now belonged to called me son. The tragedy of hope is that it gives you hope. The joy in mama’s eyes will soon dim as the sun sets on the only man whom I ever saw love mama right. A decade ago, I felt hope stir again. The ancients say that if your friend's chin is on fire, fetch water and place it by yours. Sad that my heart beats louder than any ancestral echos. Heartbreak begets hope and hope begets heartbreak. Today, my eyes are open to the trickery of hope. The tragedy of hope is that it gives you hope. Quiet my beating heart. Listen. The ancients speak. Fetch some water....