Snipoems and words

Lefatše la bo-ntat'a rona

Some Poets Study Biology.

Commandments, by Rethabile Masilo

—for my brother, Khotsofalang

Memory lifts its veil, everybody calls you, 

but no appearance. Once again, I recall 

walking nights with you, touching walls 

toward a light of home’s distance 

lit for those still outside, till that night 

became another day. I remember ten 

childhood commandments, how absent 

loves must be watered and fed with half 

the force of touch and light and tongue, 

and half with a winter of wild surmise. 

Today still the quiet night brings images 

of walking toward that hill of home, 

using darkness as a guide there. Then 

one morning you were gone, on one day 

that took you away, your stature, the right 

non-form of your build—for all was you— 

none of us knew what was coming despite 

what you embody today. What we had not 

realised was that there was no ram tied 

to Abraham’s shrub. Thou shalt not awake 

after dying, thou shalt be willing to refuse 

refuge in the arms of their Lord. You left 

Lesotho the year of your eighteen years 

and we closed our eyes. Grass grew a beard 

on you, and thou shalt ‘get up, stand up’ 

rang the air. These are not on any tablet 

but on the skin of our hearts. Because thou 

shalt not hate nor rape thy neighbour, and 

thou shalt aid people, thou shalt worship 

other Gods beside me. These many years 

afterward you remain needed. Because thou 

shalt never leave loved ones in the lurch.

[ Listen here ]

Khotsofalang and mom