It was comforting to hear the feedback from 'Twifo
Praso Blood Bath'. This post seeds directly from a conviction I had from
'Betimore', the town I volunteered in after my time at the hospital. You may
need a background, Catch up on the early post (http://theagleswingfoundation.blogspot.com/2014/06/twifo-praso-blood-bath.html).
From whom has this knowledge been sent from?
Stalking me to what end?
Flustered!
For I am without an expression,
But with joy I embrace the lighting bolt,
Yet to pursue even unto the pain of rejection,
That one day I may find,
With hope I scream with the echoes: I am but a Lover!
This post has been motivated by a meeting I had with
my SICE mate from Betimore. It was refreshing to meet him again after school.
The last meeting was at his wedding and really gave focus to the conversation
we had some eight years back. I share our youthful convictions in this article.
'Extolling Marital Love', is a title I first came
across from the New Living Translation's Daily Walk Bible. It is the title of
Day 194, a review of Solomon's Song of Songs. July 12th is the date for the
reading and indeed, it did make for exciting read. The book has practically
become one of my favourites. I remember the firm assurance I had eight years
ago, declaring how much of love I would have as a promise from this book. I
prayed for love as passionate as Solomon had written and was sure, I would
receive it latest by a year’s time as my testimony for SICE.
Here is where the fun begins, let me however indicate
that the preceding content may be painted with personal details. The poem
Solomon writes in his book is said to be the very best of Solomon's writings.
He joins the many poets as led artist in painting love stories generations
before Christ. I have explored love as a concept in many poems and articles and
I do not intend to do same with this article. You may however read one of the
insights on the subject, it was a collection of lesson on love, lesson we all
have need to learn. (http://theagleswingfoundation.blogspot.com/2012/03/beauty-of-love.html)
To what end do I then intend for this piece? To the
end of telling my own love story. I started this blog to tell an African story
of hope, leadership, faith and love. I take a twist to share the heart of a
young African as he searches for Love. Indeed this may offer for a series but I
resist the temptation to be adopted into 'Kumahood'. I tell the story with a
heavy heart and I pray it becomes of help to you.
- Believe in Love does not exclude rejection. Bear with me to start from the most recent. My February 14th post was of course inspired by a lady. She is a lady I had gotten to know for a short while. But one I had liked for the content of ambitiousness, confidence, comes through as ethical and of course attractive. Many stories to tell so I live with what I wrote exactly for her as my gift. (http://theagleswingfoundation.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-walk-into-parks-invitation-to-other.html). Funny as the story may be, I get 'sat down by her' and as it were as a sniper she shots my hope for love with accurate precision. After some days, I call her after a long day, only to be met with one of the harshest conversation I have ever had, labeled as 'Harasser' and 'Disappointment'. I honestly do not know if I were all the things she said I was, but what I know is I was a rejected folk. The article 'Strangers' on this blog was also inspired by rejection. (http://theagleswingfoundation.blogspot.com/2012/06/strangers.html). I have also rejected people; I have been mean to some of the people who dearly loved me. I have tried to understand why we all sometimes are careless with people who indeed love us. I am still perhaps too young to understand. But one thing I know, loving somebody does not guarantee that they will love you back, however, love them anyway. I do not mean be all in their face with love again, I mean wish them well and deal with your own heart. Respect them and let them be, that is showing them love.
- Perfect love casts out fear. I grew up pretty fearful, I may not have received unconditional love as a child but I know my parents tried to be the best they knew how. I remember been whacked by the side of a cutlass by the man who ultimately loves me more than everybody. My crime was my friend who was less than twelve year just as I was had played football into our louvre and broken it. I saw my primary schoolmates push me aside for been weird, bullied in high school for been tiny and I looked down on myself in college for growing from an unfortunate background. Such lovely condition can only make one less fearful I guess. Thank God I found confidence in him but I have lost some of the most wonderful people I could have married because I was afraid and thought they were too good for me. I write to the young man who may be reading this and needs confidence to ask that pretty, God-fearing young lady out, trust me, you will rather be embarrassed by her than to live with the thought that you never had the courage to ask her out. Fear and love are mutually exclusive and I have grown to choose love.
- Choose to make it all count. Eight years down the line, I remember the conversation with my friend when we believed in love. He is happily married and I am still to meet somebody with whom we will both label ourselves as 'Lovers', at least mutually. The years have been guided to lesson points, sometimes tough and lonely places. My oath to preserve my all for the one love I believed in has been tried and tested but still survives. I have written a manuscript for a book in two weeks from heartbreak, collected over eighty poems out of various inspirations these 'passing lovers' gave me. I have lived, exploring the beast and lamp in me for love's sake. The most important part of all the things I will write today is, make all the experiences count for purpose. God keeps bringing amazing people our way, each one tailored for a purpose. Let us choose to live through all that happens to us, such that others may from that learn a lesson to persevere.
I conclude
with some lines from two poems that came to me:
All as a
poet, hope never to quit,
And never to
weaver for archery my gift from God.
And the
bull's eye of Love my pursuit to Claim.
-What Begats Love?
From whom has this knowledge been sent from?
Stalking me to what end?
Flustered!
For I am without an expression,
But with joy I embrace the lighting bolt,
Yet to pursue even unto the pain of rejection,
That one day I may find,
With hope I scream with the echoes: I am but a Lover!
- I am but a Lover