Baleka Dineo Tshidi Thuli

You remember, I know
That if art is not affirmation
Of life as creative activity
It becomes junior fascism
With glib tongue and poisonous mask
So you know a womb
Much larger than your very own
Where we sing the flowers of labour
With my brother

You know, Precious, that the letters
I write you are never on paper
Because paper does not have
The warmth of your heart
They bleed red with life
In the marrow of my heart

When I hug your heart
Squeeze it close in the stillnesses
Across land and treacherous oceans
When on the wings of your dove eye
I soar into the time to come
Past the tyranny of any tearful present
Then I know the anguish of loneliness
Is a dangerous luxury
That aloneness is a rejection of life
Because there is much more than sadness
To the blues any night or day

We are midwives
Singing the fruits of labour
Even in cold cold Chicago
The blues give us a meal
When we are hungry
Stroke our tired backs to life
And give us a little something to drink
When we are thirsty for the life we came to
live

So when you do not receive a letter from me
Ask Tambo for the keys to my heart
Where all your letters are
Ask Mme 'Ma-Sisulu, Ask Nomzamo
Ask Baba Mabhida and Malome
Ask Uncle J.B. and Die Opel
Ask SAOTU and COSATU
Ask MK, ask the youth
Ask humanity fighting for progress and peace
And if you cannot see them
Through the tears of your loneliness
Ask your heart