sometimes Saturday nights
come bearing redemption.
like the angel of light,
sometimes it comes dazzled in glitter,
like the dark demon of the night,
it comes ready to tear apart,
scatter the ashes where the wind never goes.
Saturdays come bearing the ghosts of exes,
eating at you like a pile of drumsticks,
tearing skin from born as though it were last supper.
sometimes it comes bearing despair,
you seek refuge from that bottle of pills you have been saving,
hoping that death offers sweet release,
for you are yet to know peace.
sometimes it comes bearing a checklist
for all the wrong indulges you haven’t paid homage to in a while,
the sweet temptation of relapse,
like a good deal from the devil,
leaving you no choice but to sell your soul,
leave a signature of blood,
only to wake up blazing in the fierce fury of regrets.
maybe my ancestors were right to name Saturday as such,
of the first day!
because maybe Saturday is the first day,
maybe it was meant to be,
maybe it is!
like a deceitful lover,
Saturday can come dressed in different skin each time,
sometimes with a new sense of hope,
and sometimes with the reverting force of karma,
a day where you get to atone for all the misery you have caused the world.
and sometimes you go to sleep hoping for the best,
only to wake buried in the eerie of broken dreams,
that which was fresh and succulent,
dried up and withered to the tip of the root,
Saturday nights remind you
that a dead plant can be revived with pints of water,
that a drop of water is all you need to get back up,
a little hope,
a little courage,
a little resilience,
a little faith,
a little confidence,
and a little grace.
and sometimes Saturday nights are for spell-casting,
reconnecting with nature,
that which is within,
and igniting your passion.
a time to shield,
a time to appease your ancestors,
pay homage to your roots,
be grateful for enlightenment,
a time to restructure that which had previously been taking from you.
Saturdays are for hangovers,
ghosts of your recklessness,
justice for your ignorance,
a thirst for fresh water,
a hunger for nourishment,
and a desire for spirituality.
some people are brought to life,
an invitation to wake up sparks,
and you are no longer the same.
Saturdays are for learning,
feeling the pain,
for it should be felt.
facing your demons head on,
feasting with memories,
and letting go of that which doesn’t serve you anymore.
Saturdays are there to remind us that the world is fleeting,
along with it’s desires it shall away,
along with your accomplishments you shall surely die,
along with your obsessions you shall miss out on what’s important,
along with your fear you shall stagnate,
along with you possessions you shan’t be buried with.
wa jumamothi – the day of Saturn,
the day to reclaim your magic,
the day you die to self,
the day you rise as one with nature,
the day you surrender to the Divine Grace,
the day you ought to cleanse the bad karma.