All My Love to Sea and Sky
Amatra adastra.
To the ocean and the stars;
this is now how we say a formal goodbye
in yo sa linggu mai.
Farewell to you, lake of dust, and my own image;
take me home, now, with my vibe
still intact.
You cannot understand the change, and why people still respect
a Makaravedra who has now led
from the front with his poems about body neutrality, and gay sex
that feel so good.
And feel like the next
Life beginning.
A new Mundansa starting.
Leadership that speaks of hope, and change. Of an imparting
of a sense that at last, the rain
has begun to achieve coherence.
The heat comes and goes
whenever there is no acquiescence
but a stubborn, impetuous claim
to hollow, empty authority.
This is not resistance;
this is me saying farewell to a wayward dream,
a series of greatest, heartfelt lessons.
This is, and also is not, distance:
This is creole pride,
and gay indigenous resplendence
coming home to you,
Lion City of the Lake Inside:
this is something you know to be true.
This is something we can call a feeling, a healing:
a new, braver, bittersweet revealing
of true, magnanimous, marvellous intelligence:
beauty is in the meeting,
and the seeing
that goodbye
is itself, sometimes
a small, fading indulgence