Time is such a strange thing. We always forget how long it is. One day you will change and you will look back and ask yourself Why. Why did I do that? Why did I not do that? Why did I say that? Why did I not say that? Why. Was it really worth it?
If it was, you will know and you will be happy. If it wasn’t, you will know and you will be sad.
But only time will tell you what your heart is still too blind or too stubborn or too immature to see today.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Undulating Plains
I will soon spread my wings and fly away. Who will come with me? Whom will I leave behind? What will happen when I’m gone? What will they say? Will the sky still be blue? Will the waters still bear sailing ships? Will the earth still revolve around the sun? Will they remember me here after a little while, or will I fade away in their memories like innumerable disappeared friends from once upon a time? But this is behind me now.
Have I broken hearts? Have I healed broken hearts? Have I quickened hearts and brought adventure into other people’s lives, raw new adventure? Am I a burden on anyone? Then we must part now.
Have I wrought damage beyond salvage? Have I done much more than can be remedied? Am I a ghost? Am I a thing of joy? Am I a precious memory? Am I still there? Am I still there? If I go, will I ever return? Goodbye now.
My life is full these days, full of partings and goodbyes. They come in the form of meetings, unitings and re-unifications; but at the end they shed their cloaks and reveal that they always were, from the beginning, another separation.
Farewell, farewell now.
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Che Chidi Chukwumerije
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Suddenly the snow came
I had waited
And watched the mountain-tops
Snow-capped
All around was a struggling winter
Asserting itself clumsily
When the skies were not blue, it drizzled
The clouds passed away
Temperature refused to fall, stood straight –
I walked deep in thought
On the Mountain, I heard the Bells
Ever and again they met in one sound
A single song. I walked up
And drove away before dawn. It did not
Snow until the airbus was about
To leave the Gate. I watched it
And recalled in my memory
The feel of snow.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 