Category: Life

Deep and overstood, Jesus Christ, Life, Love, Prose

Judas Iscariot: Stain or Saint?

The Divine Bandit

It’s been a while since I did some prose work. The most weird part is that I barely noticed. When you have someone making your poetic juices flow. You just let your world drown in them. When you wake up dead, you swim in them and end up at the World’s End. It is when she becomes your Calypso, forgives you despite your drunkenness in her. Your scales and tentacles fall off. You’re free to play the piano and music once again soothes your cold cold soul. Now that I have written some non nonsensical purple prose that some might ask for an explanation to. I can go ahead and write about what the title and the entire post is about.

Before we go too far in the conversation. I will need to state this: I AM A CHRISTIAN, I BELIEVE IN JESUS CHRIST AS MY PERSONAL LORD AND SAVIOUR TILL THE END OF MY DAYS. I guess that will calm atheists down, I am not stepping over to your side and never will. With that said, let me indulge you in a topical discussion that I have had with some of Sanaa people before. At a religious level, people (meaning InSanaaNites) are always ready to indulge, without so much judgement. I believe that’s the way it was meant to be. The inspiration for this post came from a friend’s status update, and comical as it was. It got me thinking on some level of knowledge acquisition that most of us have learnt to suppress for fear of reprimand, “blasphemy” or being judged harshly. I will post the relevant part of the conversation that was had in the comments section of that update.

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Oh, if you wonder why the spaces up there, it is because when we (My friend and I) looked for the update on which we had this quite hilariously intellectual rather intellectually hilarious discussion, we couldn’t find it. It seemed someone had decided to report it and have it removed from his Timeline. Bollocks!! It’s his TL. Like really who does that?? *Calm down Bandit, calm down*

Anyway, the content and the questions therein that I can remember were:

  • God knew Peter’s life before he was formed in his mother’s womb. That means Jesus knew Peter would deny Him and He told him rightfully so. So question was, if Peter was really to exercise his “freewill”. Was he going to not deny Jesus and prove the Son of God wrong?
  • Of course with the line above that refers to mother’s womb brings up the discussion. Adam and Eve were not born of man. So they came from no womb. So might they actually have been the ones with the only freewill and they messed up? And is it possible, even God had not foreseen that?
  • Finally, of course the titular character. Judas Iscariot whom we called Judas “muici wa karati” while growing up which translates to Carrot Thief. Without him, someone else would have been chosen to betray Jesus, probably even Peter who clearly easily denied him. Not forgetting the doubting Thomas who even after all those miracles he had witnessed did not believe Jesus was alive again. Like dude, you were there when He raised Lazarus, why would you not believe He could raise himself? Or finally Matthew the tax collector who was more into money, the olden day KRA. 🙂 All I’m saying is, without Judas, there’d be probably be no salvation for us. We’d have had to live with the original sin. So what does one classify him as?

With the above said, it does give you something to think about. Just last Sunday I asked at a family gathering, why there are some verses of the Bible I’ve never heard read in church. Isn’t the whole book supposed to be His Word? I’ve read of rape in the Bible, concubines, Solomon was a modern day literoticist (my own word). And yet when I pen such poems I am labelled a….nah that’s a discussion for another day.

The answer I got was that these were rules that kind of disappeared with the first coming of Jesus. He became the intercessor and we are saved by believing in Him and asking him to become our Saviour. Of course one has to try to stay righteous. I use the word try because I am not sure whether any one person can achieve 100% righteousness being as the stain of the original sin is supposed to stay with all of us.

In the end, my belief in God supersedes the things that certain religions have tried to impose on human beings. The Catholic church still fights with the Protestants while they read from the same book. Ok, I understand there are some differing or additional books somewhere.

The God I serve is in my being, I feel His Love. And when it comes to His Love, 1 Corinthians 13: 4 -7 holds true. Otherwise quoted and applied in how well I know my God. He is patient, kind. He does not envy, He does not boast, He is not proud. He does not dishonor others, He is not self-seeking, He  is not easily angered, He keeps no record of wrongs once you accept Him. He does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. He always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

And I will say this as I have said before. The day I lost my religion, is the day I felt closest to God.

I’ll probably get some backlash for this but I always find it so weird. How harshly we as Christians judge. We judge the gay people, the alcoholics, the smokers etc yet commit the very engraved sins on the 10 commandments on a weekly or daily basis. And isn’t judging also a sin? Isn’t there a part in the Bible that alludes to one being judged as harshly as they judge others?

In the words of Mahatma Gandhi: “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

I am a Christian via Jesus Christ not the worldwide conflicting definition of who Christians are.

And to the person who reported our discussion, a brief word from my friend:

“May the fleas of a thousand camels be with you.”

Deep and overstood, Life, Love

BEB DAY 1

The Divine Bandit

Adapting arduously allowing adjudged abandonment.

Deep and overstood, Jesus Christ, Life, Love

THE FALL

The Divine Bandit

The donkey pointed him out.
But I was busy paying attention to the dry bones.
In the valley I became one with the shadow of death.
And the book I chewed was all vinegar.
With a slow hint of brandy.
But the pungent smell of stale beer emanated from it.
They must have served me the bad wine first.
I followed the star.
But she was more into undressing.
And David was not her role model.
She was not dancing to hymns.
But for the notes from the hims.
The notes she could hit.
Covered up his hits.
She ended up underground.
And not that she wasn’t discovered.
She knew many a producer.
Many had produced her.
Pimps were her brethren.
Though not twelve, they found her more apostles.
But this is not her story.

This is my truth. Not a legend nor a myth.
It’s the test of my faith.
The struggle that brought us here.
Where we rise with each trip.
We shine with each limp.
These lions don’t recognise me.
They tear at my flesh.
And what remains, they roast on a warm fire.
With their band of wise men.
The politician, the banker and the lawyer.
The test of my love, the test of my kindness.
The loss of my patience that has me recording all evils.
Revenge that brought us here.
My heart wants its due.
But vengeance is His.
My brothers sold me out.
I’m a slave in her house.
She looked back and now I’m the one who’s all salty.
Her husband has the concubines.
Yet I’m the one paying alimony.
I don’t even qualify to be dead beat.
Like Uriah, the boy isn’t mine.

But this third day, the sun shines.
He’s risen they say but I knew it before I saw it.
Because I felt His hand on my shoulder.
I felt it tug me away from that wrecking ball.
And now on His shoulders.
I won’t even ask my shoe.
I was hurt and I was bad.
I could feel my spent harmony coming back.
And with time my soul’s voice also found a place.
Because I rise like Maya Angelou
He lives in me.
No shame no guilt.
I won’t blame him, for me; He built.
And I’m his child, no longer a Gentile.
For on that wooden stick.
The one they make fun of when they speak.
He witnessed my fall, how short I was from grace.
And as the garment tore apart, he qualified me for the race.

Deep and overstood, Life, Love

My WeaKness

The Divine Bandit

Have I told you I like you?
Have I mentioned the grass that grew after my luna madness dissipated?
Have I said I’m willing to leave the slow club and just go?
Have I described the nostalgia of the fresh rain on this scorched earth?
Are my guns pointed at these roses? Did I slash a hedge just to get ahead?
Is your voice such a melody that now I’m on this sound cloud?
Is your voice so husky and mine so deep that we are the new reverbnation?
Did I say I’m coming home to you? Even if you’re not white trash just beautiful, will this ever last?
Shall we go on and leave each other breathless? Shall you join this course?
Have I promised to change who I am? Probably give my friend his nickel back?
Have I confessed the biting of fingers? The biting that lingers?
Is it just the sun that won’t go down or is it the starry eyes of Andromeda that have me in constant warmth?
Am I writing or have I taken the road less traveled and now I’m just addled by the frost?
Is that maybe why my lips are purple? Hibiscus words collate at the meniscus of those tears they say we should discuss.
Do the scenes that play in my mind remind me of you two?
Does this seem vaguely familiar to the loss of my space?
Should I move to a sports car and just let this van go and play it by ear?
Should I chase my music and just let myself glide into your beat heaven?
Is it time to figure it out and just have more of that?
Is my new canvas well stretched out? Should I just pawn off my easel just so I can boast that I make some more notes?
Is it time I taught? Is it time I gave you my current notes?
Should I take the leap, come up with a riff that will give off some new notes?
Have I told you I like you?

Tags: Vincent Willem van Gogh Macklemore YouTube Guns N’ Roses Slow Club ‪#‎RobertFrost‬ Everlast Slash Nickelback ‪#‎Beethoven‬ ‪#‎Mozart‬ ‪#‎Figaro‬Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie ‪#‎PurpleHibiscus‬ SoundCloud ReverbNationMyspace The Corrs – Official page

Deep and overstood, Life, Love

INHEARTERATED

The Divine Bandit

It’s like she saw my MASTERPIECE.

STOLE a glance at it.

Made a FRAME for it.

And now as I take my STAND.

She knows the VERDICT lies in her PILFERING eyes.

They took a small pART of me that had the most of me.

GUILTY by PAINT.

Her face is still red from her first CRIME.

She mistook my words for a BRUSH and BLUSHED for a better portrait.

My PALETTE was late and now here I stand charged with CONTEMPT of COURTSHIP.

I rushed my CASE and now I’ve been served with her CORPORAL punishment.

No I did not ESCAPE.

Despite her COLLAGE I was never AT LARGE.

The hyperbole of the DEFENSE team.

Was way larger than the CARICATURE in my mind.

She wanted me to run because they gave me no BAIL.

And my DOODLE towards her CHAMBERS was a CAPITAL OFFENSE.

So I let my heART be the COLLATERAL.

I will SERVE LIFE as my SENTENCE.

Carve this into my JAIL walls.

The MOSAIC will come into view at the end of this SENTENCE.

Life, Love, Manes, Prose

My hair says: “I am not his head.”

The Divine Bandit

We shall skip the introductory hullabaloo on me having long hair, how long I have had it for etc. We all know I have long hair. We all know, some would wish I cut it. Others have a fetish for it. Others are jealous. Mostly girls. 🙂 I will skip directly to why I keep it and hopefully lay all those questions I have had to answer to rest. I will use a template as I did in my last blog post. I found it simple to follow and it does tone down my ADD. So here goes:

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WHY: I will pretend that it had something to do with Samson and having the Bible read to me at an early age but his ending was not so good now was it? I also sometimes mention one Frank Morgan from the old Home and Away, yes the 90s one. The one who was in love with Bobby. (I am that old) Him.

Home and Away
Home and Away

But those are all purported reasons. The real reason as I have told many before and was telling one Wanja this morning is that I have a fascination with hair. I like..wait love is the word.. love hair. I find it funny that this weirdly stringy and sometimes kinky tufts pierce through your skin for sometimes no reason at all. Point to note (toe and finger hair plus almost invisible arm hair). They say a man is supposed to keep his hair short. But then why does it grow? I have always asked. If I was meant to have short hair, should it just not grow? And I guess all the ladies would have hair flowing to their calves. And no horses would have to lose their manes lol. Fact of the matter is. As long as you’re not busy modifying who God made you to be by bleaching, tattooing etc. (not judging by the way). You can let your God given body parts stay as they are. Is hair a body part? I digress.

Since the argument above does not seem to hold water with most people (notwithstanding the fact that my African hair is allergic to water too 😀 ). I have decided to list some other benefits of long hair except the reins ability (If you get this, I like you already). I am going to go all scientific and evolutionary for the next few paragraphs.

Humans (and horses) are among the few species that may grow their head hair very long. Humans are believed to have lost their fur 2.5-3 million years ago when transiting from a forest habitat to the open savanna, as an effect of natural selection, since this development made it possible to run fast and hunt animals close to the equator without getting overheated. An exception was however head hair, which was kept to provide thermal insulation of the scalp from the sun, to protect against ultra-violet radiation exposure, and also to provide cooling (when sweat evaporates from soaked hair). 

The ability to grow long straight hair, has been observed among Homo sapiens sub-groups in less sunny regions further away from the equator. Relative to kinky Afro-textured hair, straight hair allows more UV light to pass to the scalp (which is essential for the production of vitamin D, that is important for bone development).10400682_27983481626_4938_n

Scientists also view the ability to grow very long hair as a result of sexual selection, since long and healthy hair is a sign of fertility and youth. Long lustrous female hair is rated attractive by both men and women across cultures. An evolutionary biology explanation for this attraction is that hair length and quality can act as a cue to youth and health, signifying a woman’s reproductive potential.

As hair grows slowly, long hair may reveal 2–3 years of a person’s health status, nutrition, age and reproductive fitness. Malnutrition and deficiencies in minerals and vitamins due to starvation causes loss of hair or changes in hair color (e.g. dark hair turning reddish). The prevalence of trichophilia (hair partialism or fetishism) is 7% in the population, and very long hair is a common subject of devotion in this group.

We are done here no?? It just goes to show that I am a sexy hors..I mean beast who needs no umbrella for UV protection. 😀

TILL WHEN: This is an easy one. I don’t plan to shave my hair. Ever! That is unless I get a head injury and have to be stitched or something. This might seem unlikely but when you had a big brother using you head as a javelin target when growing up. You can see how that might happen. (He is the original YouTube athlete. 😛 ) . I will wait till all of it falls off. I will have a grey ponytail if need be.

WHY NOT DREADLOCKS: This is a no-brainer. Girls would say styling. They need to look different once in a while. But no, my answer as my character is as weird. I like combing hair. So I have to be able to have it open once in a while for this. I however discovered some other benefits of having hair you can comb. See below:6Capture250173_10150201482291627_3700119_n

The various benefits of combing of hair and scalp daily are:

  • This activity cleanses your hair better than using any artificial shampoo
  • It eliminates waste materials from your hair including uric acid crystal deposits, catarrh and other acids and other impurities that gather and stick to the scalp
  • It helps in stimulating the blood capillaries, thereby increasing the blood circulation and transportation of nutrients and oxygen to the stem, root and bulb of the hair.
  • It helps in stimulating various oil and hormone producing glands. This helps in keeping the pores of the hair and scalp open, thereby activating breathing. It also helps hair in retaining their natural oils.
  • By combing your hair properly you add life, shine and volume to your hair.lkosl3gas

Now that I am done with this simple post that no one asked me to do. I just realised I had planned to have various photos of my hair in between various explanations but for now I’ll just place them haphazardly for your liking, envy, fetishes etc. 😀

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Culture, Deep and overstood, Dionysus, Kenya, Life, Love, Lust, Prose, Travel

Monday..brrr….yawn…oh..a template… :)

The Divine Bandit

Namaste bi…Wait that’s Kevin Mutua’s greeting on the Sanaa Whatsapp group. It’s been a cold 2 months and now we are on the 3rd one. Heed Eddard Starks words : “Winter is coming” and Ebola might be the Whitewalkers. Just thinking out loud.

I found it fun when I found this template. Seems people have direct answers for most of this stuff. But as usual my brain always reads too much into simple words so this is my version.

 

Making: Love? No? Ok, making time count. I am trying to get loads of things I have procrastinated on before done. Like editing my poetry script and hopefully publish the best 30.

Cooking: Way too many eggs!! I have them in everything. Rice, Toast, Spaghetti etc. But I am craving that protein and energy due to my new workout regime. Twice a day at 7 AM and 10 PM is hard work especially after a long day’s at work.

Drinking: Tusker. But that’s too common. So the new thing I’m drinking is Kate’s Organics Green Tea. I have had it in my work locker for a while now. It’s a great stress reliever, antioxidant and yes, that secret weight loss method I have used before. Dropped 5 kgs in a month. Now dropped 15 to date. Oh but don’t think that is the only thing you gotta do. I don’t take sugar at all and remember working out mentioned above.

Reading: Game of Thrones. Been at it on my phone for 3 months now. Had to find something to do once the series was done for the moment.

Wanting: To find a football pitch with a real organised team close to work. I am tired of my own where the pitch has so much gravel that every time I fall, I’m ruled out for 2 months. How will I ever manage to impress Wenger’s scouts??

Playing: I wanna say her but I am single so mmmhh let’s say Candy Crush but I got stuck at level 86 four months ago and I kind of gave up. I have therefore for the moment joined the bandwagon of hating on those who send requests on Facebook.

Wasting: Sleeping hours. I sleep for about 4 hours daily. Except on weekends when I overdo it. I need to sleep more. But that means I need to slow down my brain without using any drugs. Proving to be quite a feat.

Sewing: My vests?? I think I should just buy new ones or just stop working out. Or both. My biceps are 12 inches now. I think. I know brag brag brag…so my sleeved vests suffer.

Enjoying: Watching arsenal’s pre-season games. Sanogo is coming of age but that kid Bellerin is who I want to see more of. Damn that pace!!

Liking: My renewed OCD to clean up for myself. No more washing ladies and I have managed to do my washing and general cleaning 5 times now.

Loving: The fact that I found these bunch of misfits we met while in high school. All of them. There was Ann, Tracy and Nyambura. And all of us finally, all of us reconnected on Facebook. It has been a long 10 years.

Dreaming: Of Premier League glory. So close and possible I can almost taste it.

Hoping: That she understands my French. My words, my poetry, my only mastered language. 😀 Who is she? I have no idea.

Marveling: At these Dubai water fountains that dance to “I will always love you” in tribute to Whitney Houston. The science and the art that went into this is amazing.

Needing: 3 table spoons of codeine filled cough syrup so I can get some sleep. These coughing is making me lose so much sleep.

Smelling: Absolutely nothing. The almost 3 month cold spell has done well to work against my flu immunity and I get like a bout every 2 weeks. So now my nose is blocked. Food tastes like cardboard. (Don’t ask when I ever tasted it but I did.) But worst of all, I hate the coughing that makes girls shun you just at the moment when you need warmth and hugs. 😦 😛

Wearing: This awesome blazer. Well worth the price. Even the camera guys at the Heineken Desperado Launch could not stop taking photos of it. 😀  Thanks B.A.K.E for the invite again.

 

Photo Courtesy of Bundi Anassi Photography
Photo Courtesy of Bundi Anassi Photography

Following: @Jeanwandimi  of http://thewineandfoodreview.com/ and  of  http://theveon.wordpress.com/ One writes about wine and alcoholic events 😀 , the other about campus stories and puppy love poetry. 😛 Both read my blog. Great writers and great personalities.

Noticing: Despite my initial criticism of Instagram, 2 weeks without an android phone is killing me. I also miss Instant Twitter. Follow me at @TheDivineBandit and http://instagram.com/thedivinebandit I won’t follow back today or this week either but I will when I come back to a 100+ notifications.

Knowing: I’m like 3 years away before the nudges at family events to “get married” become full on body charges followed by a scrum down and a neighbour’s daughter as a try. That sounded mean but I had to clear the sports analogy.

Feeling: Happy despite the blocked nose, inflamed throat and erratic coughing. I am alive and so is all of my nuclear family and my best friends and friends. Most that I know of are in good health. Feeling a bit sad when I think of Robin Williams. A little is an understatement.

Eating: P….Pus…It’s spelled Pistachios damnit!! I like indulging in some exotic nuts..Ok this keeps sounding wrong. So I guess I’m done. 😀

Life, Lust

LEGS…..FOUR DAYS.

The Divine Bandit

I saw her on a Monday.

Strutting up and down the office.

She stopped at the coffee machine.

And bent to fill her cup.

She had a smile like that Sunday.

A body that would entice.

A gait that would recreate the original sin.

So I stopped and said ”what’s up?”

 

Tuesday was the next time I saw this angel.

The night’s conversation still fresh in my mind.

She had laughed at my jokes.

And sent her baby photo.

She reminded me of that woman, Rachael.

In her eyes at lunch, my soul I could find.

She was ticklish but still enjoyed my pokes.

For a second there, I believe I won the Lotto.

 

Wednesday found us at dinner.

A table for two reserved an hour before.

Her look gave my skin a tingle.

And her hand in mine electrified me.

In the house that night we played From Finner.

Clothes would fall down as they tore.

Both of us were single.

And so we let life be.

 

That Thursday was spent mostly in bed.

Energy was expended for the greater good.

That smile was now more true.

That purr now known to my ear.

She said I had a good head.

Naughty new girl who raised my mood.

Of lovemaking she had more than just a clue.

The memories of last night more than clear.

 

She never knew why I first looked at her.

But I knew…

It was the legs…legs…four days.

Deep and overstood, Life, Love

I don’t know how to spell ♥

The Divine Bandit

See I don’t want a luh..luh…..love like Common had never seen.

Nor one like Shihan’s thinking of you thinking of me thinking of you kind of love.

The sun came and set on Maya and I am still a long way from home.

Because I refuse to walk anymore till the mist is gone.

I don’t want to learn how to love, I want love that learns who I am.

I need a love that needs me for longer than I have needed it.

I don’t write this with a bowed head of a proud African man.

I don’t even try to rhyme because this love will force a rhythm.

No, I don’t want a love that makes me Koo Koo.

Because I want my mind to be fully alive as she purrs and I coo coo.

I don’t have to count the stanzas.

Because we are not prosing just proposing.

This is not a poem, it’s just a mind blowing theme.

I am not the Lion King, my dad’s not Mufasa.

I just decided to slow down as was tired of moving faster.

And there will be no love to feel tonight.

When I spread my arms this time don’t be confused.

My heart will go on but this is no Titanic.

See I want a love that one language cannot explain.

Because I don’t feel in one culture nor express myself in one way.

I need that kind of love drug that makes you almost see sounds.

You can harness the power of music and recreate a moment to each aspect.

That kind of love that makes the past ten minutes a nostalgic event.

Makes you want to go back and this is no throw back.

You want to live in the present love but you still want to see what it looks like in future.

Do the emotions overlap and become a melee of heart beat skips?

Or do they become parallel comrades that see each other but never ever meet?

This typing is just us talking, I am not having a monologue.

I am asking you this because you said you have fallen in love.

You hold my hand and want to stay in the moment.

But you see, I am a different kind of person, weird even.

I believe in being unique and making you part of this life of words.

I want you to be that one song I never get tired of and never want to turn down.

You are the painting that looks its best because of being incomplete.

The knots I feel in my stomach are the ones I want to tie.

We will then add colour to the life we create but we won’t dye.

I will add you to my favourite humour, honour and endeavours.

I need you to be smart enough to see what I did there.

But see the most important fact is that I need to be smart enough to get you.

I need to dress smart enough to impress you.

See, making you happy is not a goal.

It is a constant life choice of which instead of kicking away I will hold onto.

I am not writing this from my thoughts.

Each morpheme here is a heartbeat and I am yet to run out of breathe.

We are writing in what we have painted.

We are strumming a future lullaby on the ukulele.

This was not meant to rhyme but I will be with you milele.

My dreams are not sick, no they are valid.

In fact they are not dreams just future realities.

I traverse this life as a child of the world.

I am a writer, a dancer, a singer, that’s why my brow is forever furrowed.

I’m a thinker, a doer and in the dance of love I will have you twirled.

You can be my last word, my last note, my last dance step.

Because each day, we write a different plot, a new song, you are my new choreographer.

Every moment we are together is Kodak for the sun has become our photographer.

The moon is the shrink who listens in on our conversations.

You have become my new priest for this love confession.

Living while loving you are interchangeable but still my new profession.

When we soar above, we smile with the stars and admire our progression.

When I put down the last word on this note, it will not be the end.

Because as you teach me how to spell love, we will create a trend.

My mind is a maze that I’m lost in but have you as my compass.

My mind may amaze but I choose to reside in the heart of this lass.

I get lost in your eyes and find you in the brown dunes of that teary desert.

Words are an illusion, promises are a farce so I can only prove my love if I never desert.

My words are never ending.

Our thoughts are ever blending.

You, I’m ever defending.

And as we hold hearts and start ascending.

The earthly definition of love, we are transcending.

Deep and overstood, Life, Love

Correct connections

The Divine Bandit

The waters lap at the shore.

Trying to quench the dry earth.

The feeling he rides is no longer sure.

His death came before her birth.

The seedling sprouts from the ground.

Ready for life and a little sun.

But weeds have grown all around.

He is hidden as he seeks and it’s no fun.

The doorbell rings and he takes a minute to answer.

Misses the connection, it’s time for a correction.

 

The bus pulls away from the station.

His heart pounds from the sprinting.

His soul has been on vacation.

And now his obituary they are printing.

He catches the last phone light.

Migraine pounds in his head.

He created his own plight.

He chose the path he has led.

The doorbell rings and he takes a minute to answer.

Misses the connection, it’s time for a correction.

 

The book snaps shut just as he closes the door.

No bookmark and the story is now dead.

He had just figured out what he would settle for.

And now in a white satin gown, his words lay in bed.

He missed that last perfect word.

And now his poem has no rhyme.

His rhythm just feels absurd.

He is almost out of time.

The doorbell rings and he takes a minute to answer.

Misses the connection, it’s time for a correction.

 

Lucky will he be if he finds her on time.

For she will make a dam for his waters.

Prune the weeds so he can prime.

Give him sons and daughters.

His heartbeat shall slow down to be in tune with hers.

She shall wait till he boards.

They will rhyme on each page and become connoisseurs.

The rhythm shall be found as she strums his heart chords.

The doorbell rings and he does not answer.

She served as his correction, he found his true connection.