Kanyana: A poem

My previous post addressed the subject of writer's block and what I do when I've been blessed by such an abomination, as folks in my profession doubtlessly regard it. I mentioned that I switch to poetry and hope something comes from it. Well, today brought me a few things: cold weather, sunny skies, life, and, you guessed it, writer's block. Being a seasoned pro at this, I quickly focused on poetry and I started writing whatever idea came to mind. To build upon yesterday's topic, I figured I would post a poem that I just wrote out of my encounter with that bitterest of enemies of writers renowned. Here it is, titled Kanyana in my native Kinyarwanda and addressing the 1994 genocide. I will most definitely edit it as this is the rough draft, but I still hope you enjoy.

Kanyana***

Rivers empty tears

No longer choked by ignorance

Reigning rampant across the land.

Kanyana stands on the bank

Searching for her family

Amid the flotilla of emptied shells

Cruising at the speed of the current.

Her cheeks are devoid of tear tracks,

Her calf eyes dehydrated by sorrow.

Life, like the river, moves past her

To empty into a distant memory

As heartless as the hate

That orphaned her so early in years.

Her little soul unable to understand

Or bear the pain tearing at her heart

Shudders and flees her weakened corps.

The little body rolls towards the brown liquid

Where it might find its parents in time.

Her spirit remains rooted at that final spot

Unable to flee from her vigilance post.

In time a blue rose sprouts forth

From the spot between two ancient

Tiny footprints. Kanyana’s sorrow

Manifested for theworld

To see and never forget.

Edouard S. Mutabazi

December 2, 2009

1^st Draft

***Kanyana means little heifer. In Rwanda, calves are highly prized and a symbol of wealth.