POET: John D.K Fatorma
POEM: 'My Missing rib'
I have waited so long.
I have even gone beyond.
I still hear no sound.
But hope to share the fun.
I have beaten more drums on fire.
But certainly not the ones I desire.
Myopically, I sowed them as frames.
Surprisingly, they flogged hard like canes.
Notwithstanding, my eyes remain open.
My walls crumble as though not toppled.
I feel too feeble but can't go crippled.
I bank no prank but can't trust most people.
Bravely, I drill no grieve.
Yet I wait to find my rib.
North to south, no sign to pluck my rose.
East to west, no fence to block my coast.
My dream lives, dressed up focused searching wide like a lion in the jungle.
I now move firm, in and out to get you fast entangled as I rumble.
I will sing more praises hopefully and joyously as I end up the trace.
My missing rib, I shall find you by every cost and by grace.
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J