Nomenclature robed in wealth of words
The hot sauce that makes the tongue hurry
I am the live in the lively garment of merry
Like a hare I burrow to the worlds.
Esther had a dream last night
She said I am called Victory
Like in the Mordecai's story
To darkness a spill of light.
I am what I am called
Spiced and baked in Grace
I am a perfect breathing oeuvre
In clean clay, mixed and kilned.
I have written my name in gold
Bright effect, large format and space
Stellar polished over and over…
I am dark shine and bold.
I am the Goodness kidnapped by blessing
The laughter on the lips of sadness
The contagious smile pocketed in the hollow of frown
I am the throne of the King mercy.
I am the tiny thing in the Bosom of The I AM
The decorated ass of gladness
The new noise in town
Like the celebration of the new yam...
I am the greatly true and real
My name is not in the book of abstractions
My fate is not the man of superstitions
I am the planted dead grown cereal…
I am the branch in the Vine
Sprouting abroad…across nations
Godly-spread intending intentions
I am the wonder and my root is Divine.
18TH APRIL, 2015
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