She sauntered in the office with her files bundled to her breast. Out of breath, she whispered loudly to Serwaa, the head receptionist, rushing to her cubicle, before Sam, her boss, could make out her silhouette.
Perhaps, she would take up that offer, to pursue that which challenged the bejesus out of her. For now, cowering and hiding in her mama’s skirts seemed to be the best option.
My heart I doff
Sweetly cradled in the hammock of content
My tea cooling in the breeze
Yet my desires singed
Singed in the crazy folds of confusion
The dreams I relegated to the sea
The horizon I gazed longingly at
Wishing the shores were just but a step away
The glass windows I erect much glazed
“Next year I murmur”
She told herself, claiming, she just was not ready for the hussle. Serwaa looked to her, with deep sorrow; if only her friend, Maame Yaa, could just take that step almost everyone could see she badly needed to.
Never yours to take
Steps in the mudslide she takes
The vines overhang
Awaiting the warrior to awaken
The sun going over the yore
Silently brushing over the greens
Caressing the lights to the dim
Her chance to give
The time running of free will
No hay to cure
It smiles its way sweetly
Knowing that fate is useless without it
Fear, Maame Yaa knew so much. Control, she practised religiously, yet, Serwaa preached that she let go, reach beyond, just next door, and grab the dream she put there.
Her passion, her desire, her muse for living, yet, the factor of the sun bright upon her face; out of the shades of the green, scared her much more – courage she lacked.
The fear she cuddled so frequently hoarded her courage, but if only she would realize this.
- Belinda Boatenmaa
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