A Man Called David Mungoshi

 

My curiosity set out to find a man so praised.

Will they cry for us when we are gone?

Will they long for our presence and ponder our words after our souls depart

Who am I that I should know such a man as you –

overflowing in wisdom – a rich spring of restorative lyric

you have wandered ground I am yet to tread.

My youthfulness know nothing of the places you have scribed and lived.

A papyrus painting – a scripted paradise that brings respite in death and bloodshed

I know you now,

Perhaps I always have.

What does it however matter – what matters, is that I can easily find you,

to talk about time passing, and not wasting a single moment

Like you I too will wait patiently on that ship that carries my bounty of riches

And nurse very carefully the flickers of hope in my heart

I will reach for you through the glassy visions of the river

that cleanses the soul from shards of war

At that haven where I can “dream what I will”

The refuge where my “dreams will flow into cupped palms”,

where poetry is but a particle of the streams that flow through our mental webs.

I shall meet you at that river David Mungoshi,

Where we shall speak, about this diaspore carried by the wind,

laugh, and toss about this tumbleweed called life.

 

© Jambiya kai

Lines in italics are from David Mungoshi’s, The River and Time Going By

David Mungoshi is Zimbabwean novelist - known for penning books such as The Fading Sun, Stains on the Wall, Broken Dream and various anthologies which include Live Like an Artist and three poems in Zimbolicious Poetry, among others.