A Poem

By Nkateko Tshabalala

Music is like listening to the testaments of the merchants of promises
It is a thread that binds happiness
Secrets are locked away in its wailing melancholies
To get lost in a labyrinth of desire, only to be found and led home by the hands softly caressing the sounds of beauty
The melody fills and folds the emptiness into waves fading into the horizon
Mountains of clouds are molded by the fevered beats
The crookedness of emotions is scolded by the fondness of a sweet voice
The abyss becomes a beautiful kaleidoscope of rhythms
Happiness is written in ink that stains the heart and paints the soul
It is a beautiful breath that carries a breeze of a soft winter morning and infuses the air with humility of love
Eyes stare back at themselves as a mirror of the spirit dancing in jubilation
Words carrying away weariness, it is a stealth of freedom
To surrender to the realm of its enchantment.