Fast awake and dreaming still
lost in the thrill of a gentle breeze
He hitches upon a comet's tail....
And stakes his claim among the stars.
Neither pipe nor armchair oft' required
Nor the gaze of mimes , to charm the herd.
Tokens of solitaire suffice the bill...
Who cares for importunate kith and kin!
Riding high infinitude , he roams
The vastness between ears and crown
Where ripened inspiration, like grapes
Await, the harvest of the handy wand.
And so dreams the dreamer,
In slumber or rest,unyielding the quest
Until the genie's egg is laid;
What hatchlings therein may lie?
Maybe the renderings of Picasso
Eternal speculations of philosophes
The unraveling of the human genome....
Or some script or thing, unimagined before.
Dreamers are doers for goodness sake
Though often slacker branded by the mob -
For whom action and regiment, affirm in life,
True agency and valued acclaim.
By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©
By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©
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