“Peace calls out each morning for my attention, promising comfort and strength for the day on the breath of dawn; Sometimes I respond, sometimes I choose to sleep just a little bit more. One too many times I missed the call. The more I missed, the fainter the call became; The more I slept, the harder I became of hearing; Till the morning was silent – silent, but not peaceful. Then Peace thundered and broke the silence when I was on the verge of forgetting what Peace was. May my mornings never be silent, but always peaceful.” – Makafui.
Today I can’t help but weep for Truth;
It has lost its appeal – the royal robes and the sparkling crown.
Her golden throne has been wrested away with impunity;
In her own imperial court she stands accused
Of being naked, bitter, unrealistic, and worthless.
She is her own defence in courts of silent judges and deaf juries.
I do not contest against my ignorance,
Nor do I argue against my inadequacy.
I do not deny that I desire to be a saint,
Nor do I not realise the fear I harbour
Of falling short – far too short.
In solemn silence, I wait and listen to hear You speak;
With intellectual sobriety, I consider Your words as they bring me wisdom;
In solemn silence, and eager patience, I wait for the manifestation of Your miracles;
In solemn silence, where Your spirit empowers, I bear to overcome;
In solemn silence, Your intentions are made known – loud and clear;