Beautiful Mud
By: Cornell Ngare
I was a loser, drifting through this cursed planet, aimlessly weaving through broken promises, scaling the heights of shattered commandments, tip-toeing across sharp pieces of broken trust. I was a loose cannon, a loud cymbal, a lost cause. Love was not a word in my life-tionary, even though it dominated my diction-ary.
As brown as dirt, as wavering as dust, as shifty as sand, as hardened as the land. My life was tainted. My hope had fainted. My patience was overdue. My purity was colloidal. My morality was unzippered. My intellect was uncapped and my integrity was disproved. A sinner to the core, a pile of evil strutting under the veil of religion…
Until the day I came across the river. “River of life” they called it. I approached it, even though I was no swimmer. Weighed down by guilt and blinded by shame, I weighed my options….
My odds were worse than I had thought. I had 2 options: to die or to die.
Indeed I had no choice. So, stranded at the intersection of the man I was and the man I could be, I took the plunge!
Who could have predicted the joy?
Who could have perceived the peace?
Who could have anticipated the transformation?
As each particle of dust and dirt succumbed to the awesome forces of the healing water, I felt my frail, fickle and filthy self slowly dissolve into beautiful mud!
So now here I am, broken, all wet and slimy upon the potter’s wheel. Marveling as each touch from the Master transforms me into His perfect image!
Nifinyange, ewe Bwana. Kwani wewe ndiwe mfinyanzi mkuu.
Take this broken pottery and transform it into perfect poetry.
Cornell (c) 2009
