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.
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