by Krystle Ada Epum

MY OLD ROOM

Outside those rose-colored walls,
I saw a moon that gave life
To the wanderers of twilight.
I saw the clouds move
To awaken a sky that dozed off at dusk.
I felt the softness of the wind
Curling up with the sun’s heat against my window.

My mother kissed my cheek hello,
Another natural wonder.

And as I stepped onto the floral rug,
Worn from my footsteps,
I looked up to see the gilded frames
Of still life
Next to a television
Broadcasting the morning news.
And I wondered
What it would be like to be frozen in time.

My hair of braids,
My pajamas of silk.

A woman, yet a child
In my mother’s arms
Asking her,
“When will it all be okay?”

MEDITATION PLAYLIST

Dreams are either hushed or pronounced
In moments of hibernation.

The breath of life
Still
In the night air.

One inhale in your sleep,
And you may discover the reason for being.

Crystal fragments flying
From the mouth you manifested,
Perfect and soft.

But,
If you choose not to trust in the universe,
Eternal slumber may coat your lungs.

And those dreams,

Those dreams may turn to dust.

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Krystle Ada Epum is a Nigerian-American poet and storyteller, emerging in the literary world with her poetry films. In both her films and her written work, she explores the art of love, womanhood, and Mother Nature while challenging outdated ideologies and pushing for a beautiful world. To view more of her work visit: www.krystleinlove.com.