Death robs us of a story to tell

Or what should’ve, could’ve and would’ve

It’s theft of human connection, nothing a schemer could fake or sell

A grand ending of time and tale. 

I made a little playlist of some of my favourite spoken word pieces. Enjoy! Poetry on Song!

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The voice of God

Your intuition is something you ought to make a home for.
No amount of denial, delusion or displeasure will drive it away.
It stays. It stings. It demands all the attention in the room.
So, best you give it a home.
Ultimately, you can’t deny your bloodline - or God!

One of the things I looked forward to in my healing journey was reaching a clear point of self-awareness. I always say I faked self-love til’ I made it, mainly because self-love demands more than candle-lit bubble baths and mantras. It requires you to come face-to-face with your innermost vulnerable self. It requires you to delve deeper than a surface you are comfortable with. It requires a level of honesty that we don’t always find palatable. It’s not all doom and gloom though. It’s a pretty fruitful investment. One that matures and multiplies if well maintained. I believe that I survived some of my darkest horrors because I had a steady love to land on. My own love. Love that houses some of my unpleasant and loathsome features until I correct and resolve them. A safe love. Self-love can be your asylum.

Every quest has assignments though. One assignment I looked forward to passing, was self-awareness. I was convinced that if I cracked its code, I would be impermeable to certain levels of hurt and disappointment. Man! was I wrong! I thought that self-awareness being the ability to identify and recognise the things that affect and have an effect on you, gave you some sort of shield. Especially because self-awareness is closely linked to our intuition. I have learned that the stronger the self-awareness, the sharper the intuition. Maybe that’s why disappointments hit as hard as they do when you are self-aware.

It is the guilt of being able to recognise the signs from a very long distance and still going the wrong way. The anguish of silencing your intuition when it cautions you feels like a double-sided stab to the heart and mind - a heart-wrenching regret. Self-awareness is simply not your passcode to manoeuvring life, but one of a few pillars necessary to keep your house from falling. Intuition heightens our self-awareness. It helps us nourish the trust we have with ourselves. It assists us to put things in order and compartmentalise. The interconnected relationship of self-awareness and intuition is burdensome but bears bountiful fruit.

“Tomorrow” has been a common theme in my life lately. It is in the literature I read, the songs I listen to, and everywhere I turn my eyes. I take it as an indication of hope renewed; a signal of healing.

There was a time when I didn’t like the idea of seeing the next day or even being a part of it. A long and terrifying time. A period that sharpened my faith and produced a more grateful version of me.

Here’s a little poem to remind you to look forward to Tomorrow.

TOMORROW AWAITS

I will thrive forward,  

Delight in today’s grace to make room for tomorrow.  

I will fail forward,  

Carry today’s weight, with certainty of the mercy that follows me.  

I will love loudly,  

Continually welcoming the beauty that blossoms from my heart.  

I will wait in prayer, 

Praising my way to blessings that await me in tomorrow.  

I will fix my eyes on tomorrow,  

Because both victory and defeat are promises of tomorrow.  

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I like having things for keeps. An uncertified hoarder. I like thrifting and upcycling. I like denim and leather. I have been using the same number for over a decade. I like lasting things. I like Forever.

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One of the lessons you will come to learn is that tomorrow will come.

In different hues;

and in a different way.

Tomorrow will come.

It’ll come in true fortune;

and sometimes in anguish.

It’ll come with its joys, its tears, and in truth.

Tomorrow will come.

One of the lessons you will learn is to be in today,

and of the certainty of the return of tomorrow.

Hair will turn grey,

and skin wrinkled.

Leaves will live to die,

and flowers blossom to wilt.

But tomorrow will come.

You will learn this and live,

because even after you’ve ceased to live;

Tomorrow will come.

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Music, like poetry and prayer, is a big part of my daily life. I cannot imagine a full day without a song playing in the background. In this busy and bustling world, everyone needs something equivalent to sunshine, or colour - a splash of joy here and there. Something to carry you through the day, Sometimes through the night. Music. That is what my everyday routine has as a constant. Some days I am carried by a playlist, sometimes a new body of work, or old. Sometimes it is a few songs, sometimes it’s just one song on repeat for weeks. Never in perfect sequence. Never a specific genre, or artist. Just what feels right to the soul. Just what feels like a hug, a ray of sunshine, a prayer, or hope - Whatever the day requires. I even wrote a small little poem on how finding a great song feels like (do enjoy the recording above)

Lately, I have been needing some clarity. I spent the last weeks desperate for answers and direction. The last few years have trained me to trust my intuition. But intuition isn’t always as clear as day and it can take time for things to make sense. Unfortunately, the grey area between trusting your intuition and time is very confusing and requires a lot of guidance and clarity - a lot of prayer. Prayer much like intuition, requires patience and consistency. Two things that aren’t my strong suit, but music and poetry make it quite easier for me to practice prayer consistently.

Grace Tena’s song His Words has been on repeat since I first heard it which is only a few days ago. Finding this song feels like finding new words to use in prayer. It feels right for my life right now. It feels like a hug from the heavens. An assurance from the almighty. It feels like the correct way to praise God. It’s hopeful and sincere. It mirrors the imperfect and honest relationship between a father and child, the constant and eternal love.

I have grown so much in my faith in the last few years. I have come to understand and identify my place in my faith. It has been a very lengthy journey of learning and discovering what I truly believe in. If I’ve learned anything from God, it is that we mere mortals can never truly say we know everything. I have learned to trust in the beautiful mystery of being guided by something bigger than all of us, trusting and surrendering all my might to God. This song cements all this for me. Saying anything more would be ruining it.

This is not intended to be a song review segment, but a little corner where I get to express where my favourite songs meet me in my life and where I get to celebrate magic made by my favourite musicians (coz musicians are truly MAGICIANS!!!).

Too many times I have had to remind myself to breathe or pray that it didn’t hurt so much when I did (lol literally). There have also been moments recently when I have found myself breathing without a reminder or prayer. I have gone back to those lines I wrote to plead with God. In one of my journal entries, I wrote that my favourite thing about writing is that while sometimes I may have enough in me for one line, a stanza, or a poem, reading back your words after a while always feels like travelling back in time and if you go back in time and don’t feel the same things, then the words and time have done what they were meant to. In this newsletter, you will find bits and pieces of what could be a full poem. To preserve the integrity of how I felt writing them, I would like to share them with you as they appear in my drafts, to remind you that words are a direct line to God’s headquarters.

I have spent the last few years pleading with God for breathe that didn’t feel heavy, or painful. I have spent the last few years manifesting better days. It felt like I was stuck deep in the ocean and I couldn’t find my way to the shore. For someone who cannot swim, I write quite a lot about the ocean and swimming. I suspect this strong inclination to water, emanates from my very great fear of drowning and that’s what the last few years felt like.

One of my favourite poets always says “Poets are prophets” and I have seen this manifest in my life in the most beautiful, affirming, and powerful way. When I could not write or do much to heal myself, I held on two to poems. Poem No. 5 by the amazing . I can probably recite this poem by heart now because it has carried me more times than I can count.

I am an avid believer in writing away the pain and freezing time and memories with words and pictures (mostly words). I am also grateful that I get to write this with a hopeful retrospection. The second poem that has become my mantra is one I wrote with the hope of breathing with ease again.

May this be an encouragement to keep writing and healing. One line, journal entry or poem at a time.

Although I am still finding it very difficult to make sense of the feelings and fears I have around romantic relationships, I am comforted by knowing how I would like to experience and receive love. I am comforted by this new-found agency of knowing that I might not be ready for it now, but I know how I would like it packaged. While I am dealing with my fears around involving myself romantically, here is a poem.

A love for sure

There is something about love or being close to it that will give you sudden wings,

or ignite a fire in a space frozen for ages.

There’s something special about feeling afloat in the hands of love; 

A feeling so sacred that it removes any signs of being scared.

The kind of bravery that needs no preparation or arrangement.

The audacity to face the sea and dare to move parallel with the waves;

As long as you reach the shore, as long as you know that it’s love for sure.

Poem by SeboSoulful | Music: Yatao & Malte Marten - When the wind talks

SELF CHECK: A POEM

I hope you have learned to soften the language you with yourself, 

I hope you have learned how delicate you are and how to treat yourself as such;

to leave enough room for failure teach you, lead you to your better self.

I hope you've learned to hear when your body speaks and demands stillness, 

Demands rest. 


I hope you've learned to find order in your mind,

To quieten down the disruption that your mind moulds.

To quieten down the disarray 

and see the light that you illuminate.


I hope you often write love letters to yourself.

To remind yourself that you are your first love 

and no one has better knowledge of loving you more than you. 


I hope you've learned to wear your wisdom with pride.

Because those who've walked on fire and ice,

make heaven cheer and chant.

I hope you know that you are Godly; 

and although your temple may be chipped or chopped,

 I hope you recognize that every kiss by the chisel 

has carved you into a masterpiece,

 a work of art. 

Hi there,

This part of my life is called the resurrection and it has come with a few realizations. Some realizations are comforting to the heart, to the mind. Some not so much. Some sting. Some feel like a potatoe is stuck on my throat. Hectic right? Evolving is a rollercoaster.

Contrary to my younger self, I no longer enjoy the blood rush that comes with rushing into anything. I no longer enjoy skipping to the middle or the end. I no longer enjoy the sunsets without witnessing the sunrise and going through the day. I am not sure where this new need to slow into things come from. It could be because I recently celebrated my birthday, which is pretty close to the big 30 (maturing maybe). It could be all the wounds and scars I have acquired through rushing the process or not processing things at all. I always had the need to race with time, with life and reality; the constant need to move quick. Maybe it was a fear of never being on time to recieve what I yearn for. Little did I know that you can't race with the clock of the one who created you. 

I do prefer to slow into things now. Grow into things. Marinate, slow roast and simmer into things. I have grown to like the process in all its glory. To not question time, or race with it but take note of all the little mercies and everyday grace. 

It took more than one scar to learn to lick my wounds and move. To understanding the Sesotho proverb “Lepotla potla le ja podi.” which advises against rushing through things. To finding solace and lessons within healing and growth. To understanding that healing is a necessary evil to growth, to prosperity of any kind. To letting go of control and submitting myself to the Creator. To yearning to begin anew. To appreciating the rebirth, to appreciating the resurrection.

And here’s a poem in celebration of the resurrection.

POEM: A RESURRECTION

There is a yearning that will eat you up inside,

eat up all your might

and drive you up to the edge and instruct you to jump.

There is also a yearning that that will eat you up inside; 

eat up all the dreams that once carved your being 

and cemented your existence. 

There is another yearning though,

that will wake you up rudely like a morning clock

and remind you that you once prayed to live dreams in real time. 

A yearning to live. 

A yearning to live again.

A yearning to begin anew.

Hi there!

I don’t think we have officially met other than through my profile or about’s page. The only thing I remember doing was drafting a pretty descriptive profile and chickening out straight after. Sincerest apologies. I have a bunch of reasons which I believe to be valid for my disappearance and/or delaying posting my thoughts. However, I am at a point where I am tired of my own excuses. I want to do it scared. I want to do it and learn from it. I want to grow with it.

As I previously alluded, I do indeed have valid reasons. One such reason is being unsure of which poem or post I wanted to start with. The Aries in me had to wait for it to come to her, and so it did. (Finally!)

As a way of daring my overthinking self, I decided that the first post shall be a poem dedicated to the source. If you are an insufferable, undiagnosed overthinker like me, you will get why this poem was so important to be the genesis of this journey.

So, as an ode to my overthinking self, please join me on my journey of shedding, growing and celebration by celebrating where it all begins, My glorious mind!

A poem just to say My mind is capable of more than just overthinking, it is so much more.

Please do enjoy.

With Love,

SeboSoulful-Writes

(Poem: Glorious Mind | Music by: Sounds Like Sander |Title: We Are Nowhere)