Mr. Earth and I
Noluthando Mampuru
I’ve seen the world through the lens of a newborn
things forming that weren’t there yesterday,
things you’d stand in my way of discovering tomorrow.
Siring the bond between Mr. Earth and me,
In my eyes, the world unfolds just for me and my newness.
See how civil I am in the way I squish and mash things
between my stubborn fingers to create something new
something you’ve never discovered.
Taste how this feels.
Look what I’ve made – my discoveries.
Rushing to plant flags on concepts foreign only to me,
the founding father of things you might have used
but I have not yet finished discovering it.
Stewarding you out of barbarism,
because this world has only begun to unravel
for my newly born senses.
I am more advanced than the Americans’ colonialism,
racing you to space to show you
how communist ideals of passing down and sharing knowledge,
meant only for me,
will not profit you.
I discovered the twinkle and the brown in your irises
Surely, those jewels in your eyes belong to me.
I found them; they weren’t there yesterday.
And tomorrow, you’ll tell me you’ve always had them,
but no knowledge is greater than mine
in this world that seeks to teach me
through the sire bond of Mr. Earth and me.
Look at these movements I’ve made
to make everyone’s life easier.
They’ll smile and mimic my discoveries
new to me, and I am new to them.
See how civil I am now
how I hold a spoon and no longer mash to taste.
It is because of my inventions that your hands are clean,
and tomorrow, when I am older,
the world will be mine.
Because yesterday, I was young,
and nothing was here.
I will give titles to lands that already had names.
I will strip communism from your communities.
The knowledge of Mr. Earth and me cannot be shared.
See how I am better than the Americas,
notice how I discovered them and their barbarity.
I am new, and the world is mine.
It unravelled before me like cloth,
and every day, I became wiser
newborn to a new world,
The allegory of romance between Mr. Earth and me.
