Our moon

I know Sudan is far from being perfect country and I am not that type of person to mistake a streetlight for the moon, I know our wounds are deep as our River Nile, but every river has a shoreline and every shoreline has a tide that is constantly returning to wake the songbirds in our hands, to wake the music in our bones, to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that new born river which has to run through the center of our hearts to find its way home.