The Light Thief We reflect things that are not our own through stories...

The Field

I had a dream.

This dream was not like most dreams.

I was there, actually there.

I could feel love.

I could taste benevolence.

I could rest peacefully.

Everything I touched prospered.

Everything I uttered was praised.

Everything I beckoned to, came running.

Everyone spoken to, responded.

Everyone I loved, loved me.

They loved me.

Then, I sensed the shiver of doubt.

I could feel hatred rummage through my mind’s hallways.

I could hear the whispers of the accusers, screaming in disgust, echo from the cave.

I could see the light lose its satellite of pure brightness.

There was no light at the end of the tunnel,

Just darkness.

A scintilla of fear struck me knowing moments of bliss in my utopia will simply remain moments.

This illusion of happiness was all I had.

Now, the field of joy has become

the valley of tears.

It’s dark, quiet, and still.

The Stray Dream

I’m sure it was worth remembering.

Maybe if I changed my routine to something,

I could awaken the part of my brain that was numb.

I sensed it sitting on the tip of my tongue.

Perhaps if I meditated with a ring recurring.

The flash of nothingness would not deceive me like I was wrong.

Soon a mild headache had begun.

Did I really dream? Or had my insanity won?

I shut the door behind me while humming,

I slipped under my sheets silently lying.

My eyes sealed shut as I reached the end of my song.

I had finally given up, onto another one.

I’m sure it was worth remembering.

But, I didn't want it to bother me.

Her

She was the very definition of a Proverb woman.

Early riser, meek, kind, but most of all, loving.

The familiar scent of a traditional African breakfast traveled up the staircase

Leaving its luggage at the very crack of my door.

As if she was assigned to lose sleep so that we could eat.

As if she was designed to gain joy when we emptied our plates.

Soon those steps were filled with oil stains from the meals she rejected.

The smiles she harbored became vacant and hollow.

I missed her.

She was physically the same,

no, she was gaunt, gray, and griefed.

Even when I brought home a trophy, I still felt like a loser.

Undeserving of the shiny plaque, I tossed it, breaking the fake gold.

It was Fake.

My smile when I went to school was like a mask I packed in case I was caught.

I didn’t want them to notice, or care, or ask.

Because I would lie,

maybe cry,

hopefully hide.

So, how does a Proverb woman get-

Schizophrenia is a chronic and severe mental health disorder that affects how a person thinks, feels, and behaves. People with schizophrenia may seem like they have lost touch with reality and can experience hallucinations, delusions, and disorganized thinking.

- Dost Öngür, MD, PhD

The very definition of a Proverb woman has now turned the living words to a dead story.

She was everything to me at all times.

Now, I needed to be something for her this time.

I busied myself not knowing when the change would happen.

The prayers she would say to me, mow I say to her.

One day, I’ll sing her the song I wrote.

The title,

Her.

Her (Song)

I thought of you today,

face pale, voice cold,

and feeling so alone.

I just want you to come home.

Yes, I’m a nuisance but,

I need you here.

I’ll do what I’m told.

I’ll make my thoughts known

to you.

I’ll protect you

from anyone who wants to hurt you.

I’ll put you first,

I’ll put you first,

I’ll put you first.

This I promise

to Her.

Imaginary Things

Growing up in an African household, I never believed there was a man who annually gave gifts to the entire world,

Or at least to those who made it on the nice list.

I never once thought that a giant bunny laid eggs full of chocolate and jelly beans,

Or that there was a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow.

The only thing I believed, my single reality, was if I worked hard enough everything given for free by imaginary things could eventually be all mine.

As years passed, another reality set in and I saw that even if I pushed myself to the very limit some unknown and external force of nature could reduce all of my hard work and progress

to nothing.

Even if my calculations were 99.99% accurate, fate’s humor would give me the .01% of failure.

But even as I got knocked down, I would peak over to see my parent’s faces,

who’ve literally been face to face with rejection and discrimination

but never set their feet on the breaks.

So I got up.

That’s when I realized that resiliency does not kick in when the road is smooth,

no,

Resiliency enables us to switch gears in order to bear the bumpy trail, along with unexpected potholes of life.

Your stories and struggles may never resemble mine or even the person sitting next to you; but each of us have had to wear a superficial smile as if it matched our outfit of the day, every day.

When all hope is gone and you’ve looked around you for a sign of help in your season of distress, there is only one thing you can be sure of.

That as long as there is breath in your lungs you have a chance, not only to find a solution to your problems, but to overcome the external force of nature that comes and goes at any given time.

One thing to note is that struggles of life have no choice but to retract when its job is done in that particular season.

What I’m saying is things happen for a reason, there is purpose behind your pain and product follows your persistence.

Don’t be carried away by a chapter in your story, be determined to reach the end of it.

No one knows your story better than you do so get creative when things are edited in and out of it.

In the days to come, I hope that we all, in any season we may find ourselves in, remember that one season of struggle is simply a season not the end of your story.

In every season remain resilient.

I have all I need

I have all I need

Even if the jingles in my pockets

Are more than those that fold.

Even if the rumble in my stomach

Are filled with things of old

Even if the consistent collection of wages

Still amount to the debts that outweigh it.

Even if the opposition gather in one accord

And those I trust have fit their mold.

Even if ‘the number you have dialed is out of service’

When I know I didn’t deserve it.

Even if I strive to be a pleaser,

But life doesn’t get any easier.

Even if the nights are filled with silent whimpers

And the sweetness of sleep has turned bitter.

Even if the key to my mind was left under the mat,

Leaving an opportunity for the thieves to attack.

Even if I rip, tear, shred,

slip, fear, and shed tears of frustration

With no one there for affirmations.

Even if I’m the only one who believes

And everyone I love leaves

I have all I need

Remember Him

Here’s my promise to You

That I make now in my youth

I will remember You

Before the strand of life breaks

And my eyes start to shade

I will remember You

Here’s my promise to You

I’ll make before my energy is through

I will remember You

While I’m still young and able

And my bones are yet to be feeble

I will remember You

I will remember You, when the sun is set up high

High up in the sky

I will remember You, when the sky is filled with night

Filled with night

I will remember You when my years are passing by

I will remember You until the day I die

And when all time is through

I’ll still remember You

I won’t wait till all is caved in

I’ll stand firm in the God I have faith in

The God of promise, the Prince of Peace

He’s the One that I’m after

He’ll take care of me

And there’s just one thing left for me,

It’s to remember the only One who always thinks of me.

I will remember You, when the sun is set up high

I will remember You, when the sky is filled with night

I will remember You when my years are passing by

I will remember You until the day I die

And when all time is through

I’ll still remember You