Well, dear year, you’ve come and you’ve gone, like a fleeting lover. And you’ve left behind a treasure chest of memories, clothed sometimes in layers of prose and poetry, full of promise, ribboned with a thin string of mystery.

And I’ve loved every bit of you, my maturing lovely blog. What new thoughts shall we share this year? Will the hopes be new or old? For hope, yes, hope, is wine.

I am a million unspoken intuitions and more. There is always so much to share, so much more – and so many perceptions to bear witness to.

Can a stream, running, come to rest, and still be a stream? Not in reality and not in dream. And so we’ll keep on blogging, with hearts of poetry and minds of prose – literature is our calendar, with which we mark and document our passage through time, counting one day at a time.

This year too I hope to share something everyday – maybe a classic poem, maybe a short story, maybe something else… the blog goes on.

Happy New Year.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.


Windows are opening out of
And into my soul
Like trap-doors trapping out
And waterfalls falling down
And flowers flowering forever away
From night to day
And wailing winds unafraid of me
Of whom I am not afraid
And wishing pains and painful wishes
And undying longings and the longing for immortality
And this poem, like this strange year, is finished.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.