Heaven is here

Heaven is here 

It is not leaving this time around

Something's gotta give 

And heaven is not letting go

Feel the cloud fall on you like a blanket

don't worry if you stagger

Great priests of old have fallen

Not from sin but under glory

Unable to perform their duties

Those who have disbelieved

Words 

given to them by angels

Have been dumbstruck for nine months

What are you going to do

When an angel comes knocking 

When he starts telling you things you have never heard

What are you going to do

Heaven is here

This time it will not lift

It wants in

Something must come out

What does heaven look like anyway

Don't worry 

It won't wait for you to wonder this time around

I don't want to be dumbstruck like Zacharias 

I just want to be like Mary 

I just want to believe

However great heaven looks like

Heaven is here and it ain't liftin this time

Heaven is here by Siki Dlanga 

Yes I am a Poet. I am an Illustrator.

Yes I am a Poet
I am an Illustrator
I write on the grains of the earth
On the coast of the tip of Africa
I write so that words of life will be blown by the wind of the ocean
Transported to the body of the continent
I write so that the wind would whisper the identity of the child in Congo to know that she, he has worth unmeasurable
I write so that the wind will sing to the refugee looking for the hope of peace
That hope and peace is possible in a hopeless land
I draw in the sky
So that the wind will lift it up to the clouds
Let the clouds interpret it over every nation to see
More
To wonder
To question
To hope
To find
To not stop until their neighbours too have their inheritance
I write at the tip of Africa
Where Mandela learnt wisdom
I let the wind blow the words
To every nation of the earth
I let the ocean carry it wherever it wishes
Washes it off like a shell
So that the old man in China
Will also pick up his pen
And tell us things
We have never before
Heard

Poem & Illustration By Siki Dlanga
Last day of the campaign
www.thundafund.com/sikidlanga

The Voice

Let it cry aloud 

Let it be heard

Let it sing

Release the voice

Release the sound of freedom

Let it ring in the streets

Let it be heard

Cry aloud

Call wisdom

Recall joy

Release the Voice

Let it rule us once more

Rule us with freedom

With Joy 

With singing

It is time for the true voice 

The Voice of voices

Speaking among a clutter 

of billions of vices pretending 

to be voices speaking at once

Voice of the sound of many waters be found 

Confound the learned with Your wisdom and grace

Tomorrow

Tomorrow 

Tomorrow is not just tomorrow,

Tomorrow is that day,

It is the day of days.

It is that day that is worth waiting for. 

It is the kind of day you could not dare whisper

Not even in your sleep

You could not 

Wish

Upon such a good 
Thing

For sheer reverence

I shall not speak of it

I can only allow

Tomorrow

To announce itself
As an angel called

Today

Waiting to take me 

By the hand

To a place

Where angels gather

In awe

In anticipation

Of future days

Days whose bliss

Is ever increasing

Whose blessings

Multiply with each

Waking Day

The angels are here

I must 

Go

© siki dlanga

The Nunnery Wedding

I was one of four young ladies

Changing a car tyre for the first time

As your marriage set us in motion

Crossing boarders for the first time

When our passports were stamped

We could not say that we were fully outside of our country

Since we had never been more inside our Mzantsi

Lesotho Mountains curtaining our eyes from the sight of our provinces

Preventing our ears from hearing the noises of our cultures

Creating the perfect setting for intimacy

We forgot our lives

We were in a new land

Trying to communicate

Lost in Sesotho

The wedding took place at the Nunnery

Old non-smiling humble nuns looking on

Creating an unreal serene atmosphere

Fortunately the wedding priest was no nun

Sprowson announced Mthi and Lite man and wife

A few Sotho people responded in song

A song so silent we could have been at a funeral

South Africans took over

Fair enough nuns and marriage never do meet

Yet this day the nunnery would know the sound of wedding celebrations

In an instance Basotho land became Xhosa land

Singing, dancing, rejoicing fearlessly

With pride we boasted about the bride

We showed off the brilliance of the groom

I remember the night as though it were yesterday

Darkness fell that night yet unable to quiet our singing

Stars shone like angel eyes looking through the curtains of heaven

Watching and in awe of our uncontainable rejoicing, dancing and singing

Elation covered us like the blankets of the Basotho people

I could not recall anything of journeying back

What remains in memory is only happiness

That had me believe that I floated back

Leaving the humble world of nuns

In total wedding bliss

I sometimes wonder

If that nunnery

Still stands

Quietly

Or if our songs

Still loom over that night sky

While angel eyes testify

Proclaiming
Eternal wedding

Celebrations

© siki dlanga

25 September 2012 for Mthi and Lite Adonis on their Anniversary

To End Love.

To end love

There is no such

A thing.

Love

Is something

We

Found

Here.

It was

Before we

Ever decided

To take it up

Or to put it

Down.

To end

Love,

There is no such

A thing.

Love

Is a never ending

Circle,

Whose sphere

Is without measure,

Whose shape

Is unknown.

Love is

Not

A thing

To pick up

Or to put

Down.

Love

Is alive.

It cannot be switched off

Unless

Hell

We choose.

Where love

Forever hides.

Yet love

Is

More

Than what we choose

Or not.

It waits.

It watches.

It sees.

Love

Has always been

Here.

Long

Long

After we are gone.

Love

Shall watch.

Love

Shall wait

To show kindness

At the first opportunity.

Love

Is not a thing to end.

Love has no end.

Love does not end.

Not for me,

Not for you.

Love abides

Forever.

© siki dlanga

Aug 2012

She said NO

1956
She marched on
She was black
She was white
She was Indian
She was coloured
She said NO 

Strydom hid
From her voice
Demanding justice
Strydom hid

Under her gaze
Apartheid shuddered
Apartheid quivered
Until it shattered

She said NO

2012
She is black
She is white
She is Indian
She is coloured
She says NO

Do not touch
My children!

She says NO
Do not
touch
me

She said NO

(c) siki dlanga
2012

He is confident - for Belinda

He likes the way you are

He likes the way He made you

He likes you

Intensely

Immensely

Incredibly

He likes what His hands

Have accomplished

He likes the way you are

He is unlike an artist

Who envisions one thing

And it turns out to be another

What He envisions

Becomes

You are His wonderful vision

You have His seal

You are His perfect work of art

His work is flawless

His work of art is more than a vision

As an artist exhibits his artwork

He exhibits you

With confidence

© siki dlanga

for Belinda as per facebook request

Friends

You make me wonder
What friendship with God is like?
Is it anything
We have ever called friendship?
Do we treat it cheaply?
Is it something we fall back on after a bad day?
Is it something whose existence we doubt at times?
Is it something whose closeness we can’t fathom or touch?
Is it meant to be much more?
is it meant to be more?
What was it like
When Jesus visited His friend Lazarus’ house?
How was it like for Him to have Mary and Martha as His friends?
What was so wonderful about Him?
That Martha could not help herself that she needed help
To prepare Him a meal?
Was she preparing a feast fit for a king?

What was so attractive?
What was so irresistible
About being with Him?
That though Mary wanted to help
She was instead stuck to His feet,
Awestruck by His being,
Drinking His every word,
Perfuming herself
With His presence.

Did Martha get so busy
Preparing a feast?
Desperately wanting to prepare
The best meal
For one so great!
So angry at Mary
For not seeing
Whom she was talking to?
This is no person to hang around
Don’t you see Mary!
This is the Lord of glory!
You can’t just treat Him as a friend.
Mary, get off His feet!
You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
You should be serving Him
Mary what’s wrong with you?
What made Martha so anxious
To serve Him
With such urgency?
So anxious to prepare Him a feast,
While Mary could not leave His feet,
Loving Him
Unable to rise
Receiving Him as treat.
What is friendship with God like?

What was it like?
When Jesus announced to His Disciples;
I no longer call you servants.
Selah.
I call you friends. 
Selah.
I call you Simon,
John, Peter,
Judas, Thomas,
I call you Amy,
Martha, Mary,
Siki
I call you
Friends.

© siki dlanga
03.’12

Gratitude

Siyabulela

I know that

I promised you verses

It had to be true verses

Not just written on any day

I had to wait for a day

Where a way

Had been made for my heart to be able to say

Without a single hint of ingratitude

Siyabulela

You see gratitude

Is not an attitude

Found in the pit of hell

Gratitude

Is what set apart the one leper

From the other nine lepers Jesus healed

Gratitude

Is what multiplied the loaves and the fishes

Gratitude is what fed the five thousand and the four thousand

Siyabulela

I could not just write you verses

I had to wait for a day

Where my heart was overflowing with gratitude

Gratitude is an attitude of heaven

My heart had to be sanctified

My thoughts had to be rectified

My language had to be a mirror of heaven

Do you know

That gratitude

Attracts

Angelic attention

When they see it

When they hear it

They position themselves

To multiply loaves and fishes

This is why I had to wait for my heart to be true

It opens the gates of heaven

It opens the very gates of God’s heart

How then can impurity be found

In my heart

When I say

Siyabulela

© siki dlanga

*Siyabulela is a Xhosa word that means "We are grateful". It is also used as a name.
Xhosa is a South African language spoken in the Eastern Cape, also Mandela's mother tongue and many other amazing heroes,

Celebrating the Celes

Love covers
Your marriage
Like a blanket

Your love is alive
It stands out
Among the rest
Like the moon
In the night

In your hands
Is the sword of justice
Together
You wield the truth
With great skill
For the sake of the poor

In-joy
In-love
In laughter
Is your power

In reverence
In honour
Is your wisdom

© siki Dlanga
For Gaynore and Msizi
As per Gaynore's facebook request

Zella's Dance

Of Zella
What shall say?
Where shall I find the words?
Does she know
That she is the reason
I have remained silent
Awestruck
Reverend
Amazed
How do you dance?
Why is it that your body
Can do what it does?
What music do you dance to?
What is the name of your stage?
And what is its measurement?
Does God make us believe
That you dance on our stage
While you dance
In His immeasurable stage

Your spirit is so expansive
Your body is inside your spirit
With your movements
We are transported to another realm
With your every turn
We are ushered through
When we return we are not the same
Tell me what song do you hear?
Yours is the rhythm of the throne room
Yours is the dance
Of wild fearsome angels
You dance between them
You move with their rhythm
As though they were mere pillars
Those fiery beings lift you up
They spin you around
When they lower you to earth
You burn
Sometimes your body cannot contain it
Yet you return for more
For with every fiery dance
Every heavenly visit
Your capacity expands
What do they call your dance in heaven?

© siki dlanga
as per facebook request

You are a dance I can't describe and a poem I can't write. You are spectacular and I am deeply moved by who you are. I am blessed blessed blessed by you Zella. There are things I can't even describe...what sort of being are you? Things that have pulled me to something higher and saved me. really. As you can see the poem is full of questions because you a wonder and I am mesmerized.

Of Zella - part 1

Of Zella
What can I say?
When you walk
When you talk
When you sit
When you are silent
When you love
When you just are
You are like the sight
Angel wings
As they land

© siki Dlanga

Ancient Hands

Ancient Hands
That moulded man from clay
Ancient Hands
That drew woman out of man
Ancient Hands
That made her beautiful
Ancient Hands
That blessed Abraham, Isaac and Essau
Ancient Hands
That lifted Moses’ staff
Splitting the red sea
So that Israel would be saved
Ancient Hands
That strengthened Joshua
Ancient Hands
That brought down the walls of Jericho
Ancient Hands
That saved Rahab and redeemed Ruth
Ancient Hands
Whose great love even blessed the world through Christ
Ancient Hands
That will not let your foot slip
Ancient Hands
That hold you in its palms
Ancient Hands
That hold the breath of all humanity
Ancient Hands
That feed all living beings
Ancient Hands
That beautify flowers
Ancient Hands
That count the stars
Ancient Hands
That count your hair
Ancient Hands
Whose love is visibly spread out in the night sky
Those ancient Hands are over your heart
Giving it life
I see your heart shooting
Like shooting stars
A thousand times
As it comes to glorious life
I see those ancient Hands
Over your heart
Setting it free
Yet not letting go
Giving it light
Ancient Hands
Hold you with love
Yes those Ancient Hands
That healed the sick
Made the blind eyes see
Those ancient Hands
Hold you
Ancient Hands
That make all things new
Renew you

© siki dlanga
For Margot my friend.

About the Blue Book

Go, go, go up yonder
Go where words will take you
Where thoughts are ladders
Into heaven’s library
Go up, go up
Up the ladders
Through the clouds
Where books light up
There stretch out your hand
Take hold of the blue book
There lies what you ought to write
Pulling down stories
From heaven to earth
Bringing praise to God
By making known
His words
Go up the ladder
Beyond your mind
Lose track of your thoughts
Get lost in the words
That long existed
Before you were born
Waiting in time for you to pen
Write what you see
Write what you hear
Write what you touch
There write about
Messengers of God
Whose hair does not burn
Though they are in the fire
Though they are fire
They neither smoke nor burn up
Write of light without shadows
Write of sparkling jewels
The size of mountains
Close your eyes
Write these words
As inscribed in the blue book
The angels have opened to you
Write of what is
Yet remains unseen by the carnal mind
Write of what was
So that we will know how we can be
Write
Write of what is to come
Write
Because words
Become worlds

© siki dlanga
17 March 2012
Inspired by a joke by Isi De Gesirgney” about the blue book”, inspired by Esme Schmitt’s vision of “heaven’s library”. Written for every writer who longs to translate heavenly activities in earthly languages.

Nicole the star

In a few words
Nicole is a star
That shines brighter
Yet refuses to be a lone star
She is a star that knows
That the heavens
Are far too vast
For one lone star
So she shines her light
Drawing other stars
Calling them to shine with her
From every corner of Africa
Brightening the African sky
She knows that Africa
Is blessed
With
Many
More
*stars
Whose light
Must be SEEN
The more stars shine
The more we see
She follows
The voice
That said
Who are you?
Not
To be
Great?

© Siki Dlanga
March 2012
For Nicole Klassen as per request on Facebook