Beauty. A poem by Wilson Oryema
Like a piece of string in high winds
Like an eel in a fresh spring
Itʼs hard to get a hold of
Last month it was something
Last year it was something else
And today it was a completely different thing
Tomorrow may bring a rehash
Next week may be a mixmash
But next decade may bring a brand new thing
Is it the face Is it the aura Is it an idea imprinted by my favourite instagram poster
Maybe it is all things at all times
These various standards
Are as plentiful as fish in the sea
And just like them
they flow in all directions
Some with the current
Others without
Some opposed to each other
While others operate around the hierarchical systems that naturally form
But with all we will see
Moments of struggle
Moments of strength
As all things will have their day in the end
A poem by Wilson Oryema for The Wildsmith Papers