Konsoler Mandah - Ambedo
In these eyes of mine,
I see the lines of age
Across the faces of stony
Plains, and wisdom
Carved by energy’s exchange
In the eyes of my beloved.
And this is home to me,
Behind the brown of my iris.
With these hands of mine,
I feel the textile taste
Of every lonely place
That has not felt alive
In years of being wind displaced,
Tumbling across the earth.
And this is home to me,
Beneath my greedy hands.
Around these ears of mine,
The air sings and the grass whistles.
Calling for the chime of the breeze.
I hear my brothers' roars
And their childish hearts soar
With a mighty cry to the trees
That hum in amusement,
Rumbling their roots deeper into the sea of earth.
And this is home to me,
These echoes of familiarity.
In this mouth of mine,
The dew of cantaloupe,
The spice of chili oil
I lather between the grains of my rice,
Because my tastes have changed with my age.
I taste the bitterness of disappointment
And bite my tongue for copper goodness,
Because I know that I at least have tried.
And this is home to me,
These familiar treats.
Within this head of mine,
My mind is in awe of my body,
Which I realize needs no instruction,
To do all the do’s and learn from the don'ts.
Every electric signal, waltzes silently with my will
As I laugh without a care,
A mother here, outside of me
And this is home to me,
This stubborn shell of mine.
I see the lines of age
Across the faces of stony
Plains, and wisdom
Carved by energy’s exchange
In the eyes of my beloved.
And this is home to me,
Behind the brown of my iris.
With these hands of mine,
I feel the textile taste
Of every lonely place
That has not felt alive
In years of being wind displaced,
Tumbling across the earth.
And this is home to me,
Beneath my greedy hands.
Around these ears of mine,
The air sings and the grass whistles.
Calling for the chime of the breeze.
I hear my brothers' roars
And their childish hearts soar
With a mighty cry to the trees
That hum in amusement,
Rumbling their roots deeper into the sea of earth.
And this is home to me,
These echoes of familiarity.
In this mouth of mine,
The dew of cantaloupe,
The spice of chili oil
I lather between the grains of my rice,
Because my tastes have changed with my age.
I taste the bitterness of disappointment
And bite my tongue for copper goodness,
Because I know that I at least have tried.
And this is home to me,
These familiar treats.
Within this head of mine,
My mind is in awe of my body,
Which I realize needs no instruction,
To do all the do’s and learn from the don'ts.
Every electric signal, waltzes silently with my will
As I laugh without a care,
A mother here, outside of me
And this is home to me,
This stubborn shell of mine.