The Quest

I rise off these linen sheets

Leaving my print on this rumpled bedclothes

Casualties of nightly battles

When insomnia and nature crossed swords

This cotton robe wrapped around me

My fur lined moccasins on my feet

My hair in a loose bun

My eyes adjusting to the dark sounds.


I walk this lonely street

My shoes make soft sounds on the tar

My hair reflects the yellow lights

My feet easily pick their way onward

My only companions

The street cats that slink around

Eyes neon like bulbs.


This calm mirrors falsely

For inner turmoil exists

My mind stumbles over my rocky search

My myriad mistakes and fledgling triumphs

My mind trips over the churned-up stumps

My heart bears scars of many repairs

This quest bequeathed by norms.


And now it has finally found its way

Past my defenses, into my dreams

Their faces plague me, mingling

Till they are all but half remembered

Names, faces, numbers and scars.


So I walk by moon and street light

While the entire world sleeps tight

I walk on through this lonesome night

Perhaps I shall bump into Mr. Right.

Written by Chika Jones

Inspired by the story of Oyin Olaitan Clegg in the series ‘Finding Hubby’5630653-young-woman-wearing-a-silk-dress-walking-down-a-lonely-road-toward-a-field-of-wind-turbines-searchin

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  1. you’re a sleepwalker

  2. chika

     /  October 6, 2013

    Tanx for this Wally

  3. Tolu Daniel

     /  October 31, 2013

    That’s a brilliant piece


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