CAN I HATE THE COLD?

Can I hate the cold
And its mother rains?
Can I?
Like horrified frogs
Eyes will pop to see the demonic words
Walk majestically out of my mouth
Why will I?
They would ask
When the kind rains nurse the earth
And mate seeds to grow
To feed all
Including the ungrateful me

II
I do have my reasons
And it is not its convention to drown
Not its goosebumps of need in loneliness
Not even its camping on labour
But its strength of nursing the painful breath
Of she who gave me life
She who pants in suffering
At the touch of cold
She who can barely talk
At the sign of all that goodness
That shapes my growth
Aaaa!
Some being I am
Taking but hating
Here but there
Making a commotion
And loving its centre

III
Can I hate the cold?
Can I hate the rains?
Can I and crave water
Crave cool breezes
In my heated haven?
This life of mixed feelings
This hate love I have
I wish they had a ground of safety
To quench my fears
When cold accompanys rains
For the much needed visitation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016