Kaku has no faith in rain─ no one prays for water here. despite the ire of drought that lick the skin of water dry. So here, we learn to become silent, grow stoic─ master the art of contentment. learn to sigh in the fury of deluge & canker. turn here to the whiff of heating swamp swirling behind the lush reeds. Thomas, born a missing child; twirls, twirls, throws his d’locks back in ignition gnawing through the warm stench remembering the requiem of a snail burial. for the ritual of a torn language. this is where he chants. for safe landing of scabrous heels. lost. between Senegal & the turnings of midnight journeys. this supplication, not for cassava nor sprout. but for penance; the water we tried to burn. for tomorrow’s turpitude. for the unborn child’s dream, raised on stilts. I am speaking of miracles of water; for artery, for vein─ litanies of whispering torrents & the magic of a burning wind.
Gabriel Awuah Mainoo is a Ghanaian writer, poet, editor, & lyricist. Winner of the 2021 Africa Haiku Prize, Singapore Poetry Prize & the LFP/RML/Library of Africa and the African Diaspora chapbook prize, he's the author of five poetry books & the forthcoming Sea Ballet. His writings have appeared in Wales Haiku Journal, EVENT, Prairie Fire, Best New African Poets Anthologies (2018, 2019, 2020).