Divinity

Tropical moonlight illuminates divination waters. Seeking clarity in the cloudy mist Traversing the corridors of my Mothers Nightly birds , flying the afternoon skies. Chaos yearns for a visit. Whose doors will it knock on? mine, no, another’s Lightning stuck more than twice. Who will console the mourning mother? Whose child died after yesterday's cry Mourners await a call. To weep blood on a sunny market day Cradle tired of harbors Mat shredded and Back aches nightly drum beats gone stale If there must be a stay, A sacrifice it is ; Seven graves, seven heavens, seven carved Iroko He who will dance with the winds must be well rooted. Four points, four initiates, four-four faced kola Only the sages have seen the last Three times, three ages, three junctions, three white roosters Another day is another morning. To take from the spirit, the earth must conceive from a splintered kola To commune with the ancestral realm Roosters must go on a journey of no return. When morning comes, the Iroko sleeps.