A Blurred Picture-A Poem by Fayisa Woldetansai

Fayisa Woldetansai

We spend some time on all the photos but one,Is blurred!

Once in a while someone will ask who the people in the picture are? Still, the tone in their voice tells it all

Another tries to take a closer lookbut never asks anything.

Apart from the people in the pictureand the photographer,

No one else shares the intimacy in that picture.

It was my uncle,Very happy to see us,

He grabbed the camera and wegladly posed for that picture,

It was joy all around.

But the picture does not tell that my uncle was drunk

It also does not tell of the laughter and the cheers,

The hugs and the kisses,

It is only a blurred picture.

A picture not worth savoring.

A picture that a stranger will discard without a second thought.

A picture only valued by thosewho shared in that moment.

I cannot but think of Africa ,As the earth rotates on its axis,The satellite images are shot and shown to many.

The shaking of war trucks,

The shaking of women wailing at the loss of their children to killer diseases,

The shaking of hunger, thirst and corruption,

The image produced is blurred.

But I am here, ladies and gentlemen,boys and girls,

I am here today to tell you thestory behind the blurred picture,The story not told by the picture itself,

The story not heard or seen in themedia,

The story of the rising Africa.In the valley she has been foryears,But she is rising to the top,

For the only level after the valley is the mountain top.Behind the blurred picture

Is a rising nation Behind the blurred picture Is a singing nation