Impulses rattling the cage
incessant, staccato as
summer rain.
Rivers of motivation coursing
through vines, yielding
to the wishes of the roving eye .
As the flippant tongue intones
songs of the lyre liven the air -
raining mists of passion, amorous
like fishes, foraging the deep ,
to tend the seaweed garden below .
Oh felicity, pour me a drink !
Spare me the mirror , morning sun.
another face ? - Same heart :
chameleon of desires of every hue !
Starved of vision ,the heart is free
of vile and vain aspirations....
at ease with airs of sublimation
worthy of the fruits of sanctity.
But importunate alas, the creepers charms,
onto falleness, the heart inclines.
'Tis of flesh the heart is made -
supple and raw - a bosom crude,
Full of wiles like Cain of old .
That which was meant to love
and care , now conflates
its purpose beneath the stars.
A jealous eye is hard to tame.
Covetous hands defy retraint.
What cruel fate on Jezreel's hill
did poor Naboth know, from the
conniving king and queen of Jews !
The heart betrays all but one;
He who was flesh,and yet divine
thus knew no sin, for goodness sake.
Not so for the first Adam and scions
of whom,fickle of heart - beguiled by sin
our mortal bane to him belong.
Yet by grace our hearts are freed from
the mighty wrath of time, thanks to
the last Adam's ennobling gift.
May the biddings of contrition
henceforth inspire within, all that is
wholesome, just and pure .
By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©
