Springing forth creation's bow.
Fleet its fletches like the orient beacon
As yet unseen in transient flow,
A moment's breathe in cosmic lore
Bears with wings the eternal flame.
Still in constant reckoning, we humans
Our wits confounded beyond the pale
Each loaded capsules a hapless ploy
Consigned to tame the current's flow
Alas the mystery defies the quest.
Yet time, the genial teacher
Father of the genie's egg;
Bestows the suckling with saintly grace
And the aged, wiles of the nesting owl
By his accord, but not our claim.
And so the beat goes on and on and on.....
We scribble history in serial frames
And thread these through celestial looms
Our daily strivings as yet banal-
In comparison to the hands of time.
By
Hope Kalé Ewusi ©
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