By: Malcolm Carvalho
Yesterday, I picked up a stone,
tore it into two,
and gave you one half.
You nurtured it, gave it wings,
I taught mine to sing,
somehow it also learnt to sting.
Your stone sprouted a beak
and talons that scratched the surface of the lake.
Mine got itself a pair of hands,
did somersaults and headstands,
it really saw the world upside down.
Did I tell you about its tongue?
It spoke as if it had caught fire,
it threw words downhill.
They exploded near the lake,
some shook hands with children learning to swim.
Your bird shredded a fish an hour ago.
Tomorrow, the guardians of our world
will choose a winner
between the eagle and the acrobat.
Unaware of the contest,
both stones have sunk upward
and each has chosen
a fragment of the sky.