What does it mean to be my friend?
Is it the whispering rumouring
Like naughty airs being tossed by blocking walls?
Or the sharing of secrets
Which are kept in our brainy books of memories?
Or even the taste of our handkerchiefs
At the sips of our overflowing eyes
In the heat of sadness?
What explanation does our codification of friendship give?
II
Shouldn’t it be stronger than hatred?
I know two close trees bump into each other often
Just as tongues battle teeth in chewing
Shouldn’t it be greater than distance?
Oh is this world not a bouncer of beings?
Today sits here as tomorrow moves there
Shouldn’t it be greater than silence?
Even wits rest when the dawn of thoughts fall
When a mouth closes in thoughts, can’t the other call?
Shouldn’t it be greater than intuition?
Oh human fallibilities tap from our abilities
What greater cause is there than clarity?
Shouldn’t it be greater than rumours?
Those smokes which spark forest fires are not always from the hunter’s match!
Shouldn’t it be greater than wealth?
Money is blood but blood alone makes no being!
Shouldn’t it be greater than darkness?
Hands are there to feed minds
When darkness falls upon eyes’ light
To fix the severed or join good threads
Shouldn’t it be greater than jealousy?
Hearts are fickle and yearning can clash
In the heat of pain can we dwell on sanes?
What does it mean to be my friend?
III
Read my thoughts in the memories we shared
Fix my void with the delights which clothed our minds
Run me a chore with the past which was meant to last
This trolley of life knows no stops
So why burn the ages rooted in the archives of our history?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©September 25, 2017
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