Idylls of Love___Part 8 (Are these not the Signs of Time)
- July 12, 2017
- by
Walking away from home
Pressing into the depth of the unknown
I called but you didn't answer
I scream but you didn't hear
Your gaze was fixed on the road
Walking as far as your legs can carry you
Your hungry legs devouring the road in angry desperation
You don't even look back at the world you're left behind
Which is the only wall fencing the great Tansa land
No bridge, no boat and her banks are wide apart
Too deep too large to swim across
Watching as you fade into nothing
Weeping my sadness into the flowing river
Hoping Omiri herself will reach out her hands of compassion
But explanation not console is what I need
That you forget to leave a world behind
For those who cared about you
That you refuse to answer your name
Drenching my brow with a stream of sorrow
My heart drown in pain
Startling me out of sleep
It was mama calling me to take out the calabashes
An heavy rain had started
Which manoeuvred out my loneliness
As I lay on my mat thinking of you last night
And I wish your going to the city too was a dream
Thunder and lightening kept beating the plate of the sky
Reminding me of judgement and justice
The wicked will quiver at its roarings
The children will shiver as it noising flashes in the thick dark clouds
The wise will lay quietly with questions unanswered
What kind of rain is this?
And the morning flaunt its splendour on humanity
Omiri, the river cutting through many farms
Is overfed with the rain that fell overnight
Its banks can hold no more
So she stretched her territory beyond her natural boarders
To the road impeding those going to their farms
The one rumoured to be the house of malevolent spirits
Had fallen into Koye's farm
The thunders had dug out its root
As if its searching for the secret of its power
Yanking out its foundation out of frustration
Like a fruitless thief with no treasure to loot
As if challenging the certainty of his fame
Many worried if the annual 14days rain had begun
The last days before the next month
The days that clears the busy path
For Sasa festival to have a safe entry
Eating roasted yams with palm oil
Beast will freely walk the forest without the fear of the hunter
Birds will boast with pride without the fear of the falconer
Fishes will bath in their home without the intruding hook and line
The days of weird peace and silence
Which marked your departure
If heaven had not sent her own tears
To accompany mine as it sink into the womb of the earth
If these were not pointers to a new phase of dryness and loneliness
To be Continued Tomorrow
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