A LETTER TO MY DEAD SISTER

Mark Da’ar’s Family,

Dutsen L. Mangu Village.

20^th Nov. 2017

Felt it’d be nice to write to you dear sister,

Even though I didn’t get a reply, last I did.

But I’ve strong faith and also share in the believe of the afterlife.

There is not much to say, if spirits can read minds

Then I expect you to read mine

I’d rather go extremely straight, as you knew me to be.

If I had heard this before hand, I would protest, it can’t come to be

The doctor confirmed you dead, I was told

The pain went viral in my body, my heart became cold

I no longer felt the attachment of my spirit, body and soul

It was a shock to me, of cause, I felt it so hurt

‘Really missing you’ is an understatement, compared to what I’m going through.

I hate myself for not acting like a brother and expressing to you; “I love you…”

But does it matter now? You’re gone and that’s the truth.

I’m now like a vessel, very empty,

 pleading for alms like a captive

My questions needs to be brim with answers,

I stand here staring to the sky, from the canter

Now who would listen to my clumsy jokes?

Who would teach me how to place the pot?

How to cook, when to start and when to stop

Who would show me, which hand should be on the cord?

As I sing, play and entertain the listeners of my song?

Now were do i run to, sister were do i run to.

I cried and mourn as my heart bleed

Wishing someone could listen to my plea

Sister! Why did you leave so early?

We were suppose to celebrate, when I’m twenty

You were just twenty three, but the way you loved makes you seem elderly

Please tell me now;

What heart will listen to my clamouring?

What ear to my pitiful anger, which grows in me like a tumoure?

In the black hole of my plaintive throat

Hauling myself, getting stock to my pillow, as I cry all night through

With curiosity and great expectation, I thought I would like to know;

How it feels to be dead…

But since I can’t understand the dead

Since I’ve never listened to their words

Then, even if I weep, gently, gently

Or cry roughly, bitterly of my torment

Can you still listen to my clamouring?

Or your ears to my sobbing heart?

If so, then uplift me of this bereavement

And clear the depts. Of grieve from my accountable heart

Make (our elder) brother to be understandable,

And make love in our family to be inevitable

That! I would be expecting from you…

Yours lovely

       Sign

Brother Jethro