May 25, 2026

by LAONE J. MANGWA

Ponderings

My body pulsates heavily

How much pressure would it take to puncture this pressurised container?

This pressurised vessel?

I wonder what would happen if mine bursts

Will I become shards of diamond?

In honour of my birth country?

Since I spend most of my days and nights in solitude

Will there be someone to pick up the pieces?

In my honour?

Will they notice the value in them?

Or will they throw them away as trash?

Only for my soul to return to them 

In the form of a crystal?

I can’t help but ponder such questions

As my body continues to pulsate heavily.

*

The Taste of Devotion

I have tasted devotion

Sometimes it is pungent on the tongue

Other times, like a hearty dish with a balance of flavours your taste buds host a ceremony for.

Sometimes it tastes like rejection from a loved one

Other times, like a lover’s reassurance.

I have certainly tasted devotion

Sometimes it tastes like winter; ice cold like ice melting on the tongue, slow enough to give you a brain freeze

Other times, it tastes like spring—raw honey

Oh, trust me when I say, devotion is a taste I’m familiar with

Sometimes tasting like self-sacrifice; a tough pill to swallow

Other times, like sipping on a beverage of choice, long craved, that flows through the body and settles in just right.

Sometimes it tastes like metal, like iron, after you complete a race in which you gave it your all, but almost fell short of the finish line.

Sometimes, devotion tastes like blood

Other times, a Bloody Mary

I have tasted devotion.

*

Head in the Clouds

What happens to an empath when their head is in the clouds?

Floating on a cloud of emotions

Zapping between clouds of emotions

Observing these emotions rain down onto the earth

Never experiencing their impact fully

Till one day, the body sends a distress signal 

To the head in the clouds

The empath feels a sudden thirst 

A deep yearning

“The water you need is back down here,” the body says

It speaks in tingling sensations

It shouts in stinging pulsations.

Too close, yet too far

The empath drinks from one of the clouds

And as the cloud shrinks

The empath experiences a Great Fall

Then the Great Work begins

The moment they realise and embrace the fertile earth

For their budding roots.