A Voice
I hear a soft voice amidst
deafening din of daily grind:
Where's the forest dark and dense;
the mountain high as heavens--
its shadow, a looming doom?
Where's the valley that dews
dawn to dusk, too deep to fill?
Or the gulley wide and yawning?
Or the sea fathomless, bottomless,
a home for leviathans, a womb
for tsunamis; frothing and foaming,
howling, humping to the shore
where a tiny grain wiggles,
scoffing the scorching glare.
The grain jiggles on the beach
sparkling in the sun. His voice rings
a deafening roar: I'm F-A-I-T-H.
I'm higher than heavens, wider
than earth; deeper than the deeps...
Creation stills, cowering at his voice.
Trees wither; rocks shear off in splinters,
tumbling down in clouds of dust, spraying
shrapnel on persons away from the voice.
Out of my spell, I crawl to the beach.
© 2018 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
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