Just Once

On fearlessness and the gift of mortality

Destined for greatness or death
so goes a man or woman with no limits

who decides that fear
is an annoyance

no longer tolerable
like a sore throat
or a headache

to be put to sleep
In the face of time

when twenty years or twenty minutes
taste the same
in the mouth of eternity

where all recedes

like low tide

and we walk barefoot on clam shells

wondering if they watch
from behind the folds

judging our rashness

secretly wishing
they could live too

for twenty minutes
or twenty years

rashly
without fear
alive
no longer immortal

just once.

A poem by Pemba Umoja