Poem To The Sun

 The first day we met, the first time you saw me I was young, a baby

 The first time I saw you, the first day I met you I was shy, my lady

 I remember forming my first poem later,

 It was about you, about how much I didn't understand who you where

 I don't remember its full contents, but it was lovely

 I must have lost and forgot it along the path to youth somewhere.

 The first time I witnessed your beauty, was when you were just from waking up, in the morning

 You looked beautiful even with your hair untidy, face wrinkled, with your smile dim and your whole body marked by the reed mat you previously laid on,

 Your beauty pulled me toward you as gravity to the ground and within me was left no more energy to fight your claws.

 So each day before you awoke, I would awake and outside sit to wish you a good day,

 I would ensure that my day is fully spent on seeing  you off as you travelled to the west,

 At evening, yet again I would sit and sing you lullabies as you slid into your blanket to sleep,

 I would be wondering, while in my bed whether your blanket kept you warm enough,

 Or whether you even dreamt of me,

 So I made sure the moon shone at its full intensity to at least warm your hut, warm your mat

And I begged the stars, every night, to paint my picture in your dreams.

Alas one day! That day I learned that you loved me not

I caught word that you were madly and deeply in love with another, your lover

 That you were married, long ago, even before my birth got sketched

I figured out that I was nothing to you, no one to you

 You had your man's arms around you at night,

 And thus you needed me not, this broke my heart but I should have been wiser.

Who falls for an ancient beauty such as you, and yet expect to be loved in return?

 I was only a shadow in your painting of travels on earth,

I was just one of the many romantic fools whose hearts you’d chained,

One of the many men you pathetically flirted with

I should have been wiser.

This reality broke me, squeezed off of me love for you.

So I outgrew my liking of you.

 And as years grew older, I liked you lesser,

 I found among the humans a beauty,

 Her eyes shone like yours but better

 Her smile very warm and whiter,

 Her dimples, none matches with them, not even yours,

 I found warmth in her arms, and at night I don't wish anymore for the moon to shine brightly,

 For she is a lamp that glows night long, a fire that burns lifelong.

 She is a daughter of the black soil.

 She is young yes, but a garden plenteous with fertility,

 One who shall birth me strong seeds,

She loves me as I did you

She worships me as I did you,

 She is your daughter, a daughter of Africa

The reason I no longer talk to you, nor stalk you.

 Beauty moulded from black clay!