Poem: Why do i write poetry?

As we come to the close of the year

All the madness of the year piled in one corner

And all the pain dissolved in the festive mood

I am reminded by the hand of poetry

To stick to the topic of the season

It’s not easy to lie low with poetry in your being

It’s almost impossible to keep quite with poetry in your heart

I have decided to open up

And ask this difficult question

Why do I write poetry?

I don’t know where I get the courage to enter the realm of consciousness

With my eyes blindfolded by the intense light of logic

I guess I am too foolish to undress myself in public

And let my spirit be seen in broad daylight

It’s foolishness to embark on a journey of the spirit

In a world where science has robbed people of the ability to be naked (spirit)

We are told every day that we evolved from monkeys and the game is survival of the fittest

We are given a body of knowledge foreign to our being (spirit)

We are fed test tube information (materialism)

And instructed to celebrate the technological advancement of the day

We are like zombies stripped of our ability to listen to the Silence within

I write poetry because I am not afraid to listen to my being with all of my heart

To hold Silence in my being and feel the absence of me (ego)

My mind, body and soul all absorbed into the fabric of being – nothingness

I write poetry because I have been given a gift of foolishness

Every now and then I am allowed to discard all of my acquired knowledge

In pursuit of the template of nothingness

It’s not as hard as people may think

To embrace the illogical and be part of eternity

I write poetry because humanity has descended into the thick pit of selfishness

And left their path of Light

Humanity has embraced lies, deceit and untruths

As a way of being relevant in a world driven by competition, selfishness and wickedness

Where reality has been disassembled and assembled into reality shows, virtual reality and recklessness

Poverty, inequality and horrendous injustices meted on innocent children, the poor and the vulnerable

Where money and materialism are worshipped

And unconditional Love is trampled

It’s never too late to look the truth in the eye

And be the eye of the truth

I write poetry because in my private time

I am transformed into a beautiful template of Silence

And nothingness is my tabernacle

I have no choice but to listen to the voice of the Silence

And translate it into poems

I hope this answers the question

But above all I hope humanity finds the illuminated path of Light

Faith, hope and Love

It’s our everlasting existence

©Kenneth Maswabi