Words spoken in the cold…
Nocturnal fire burning bright
Breathed dawn into the fold;
Celestial looms weaving patterns-
Moons…..seasons and such
Tomorrow was here yesterday,
When the master plotted his grid.
His ambient moon still hanging tight,
Makes light of mundane banality;
In quiet refrain earth, wind and fire….
Contest each other’s will-
While the river beneath marches to the sea.
I see a rainbow crouching behind shade trees...
Beauty despoiled by time and place-
Folks inventing angels when the truth is clear….
Such is the imagination of the uninitiated-
What good is knowledge without discernment?By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©
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