Transcendence

"Uncommon Wealth"

Morning light has made it clear
And in the dew pond my soul is cleansed
Suddenly , certainty informs me thus :

I'm a wealthy man,without coffers of greed.

How blessed to see layers in air.... 

Soul of the mountain my friend at last ,

A statue no longer, my keenness brims.

Like a river , the journey's been long

Yet blessed with lessons from the source.

My path , my journey  to me belong

Freely, realms of realms I now embrace -

Unabbreviated by time , untethered by turf.

My pockets are mute, my spirit ablaze
I'm a wealthy man , without coffers of toil...

And worldly angels, look on perplexed !



By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Dreams

Such carriage that to the common man

And child alike, affords the means to range

The skies, and the orbits close to the sun above -

That if a coach it was, for the gilded plaques alone,

How dreary a cloak, would night descend on many folk.

Sweet , quite often they're made of, like fine silk,

Or the purest of wine- dipped candy for the soul -

That awakens each carcass to the joy of living - and

Speckles the hours of the sun, with felicity sublime.

Ah dreams ,sweet dreams I say ; but there is a suite alas !

How often has the spectre  chased out slumber

From our courts, and for himself a haven make -

Within the den; Torment like none other, a sleepy head

Would know , like a nightmare that awakens the demons

That within us lie ! What sweet dreams ? Dare I say!

Dreams , and the mysteries thereof are manifold.

A token glimpse to the other side, a seamless -

journey through quantum space, where all in all abides;

Where aspiration and manifestation entwine -

Where reality is perception and vise versa.

So, dream-on dreamers , you lovers of life -

Let not the wiles of banality your wishes suppress. 

Cast deep and wide your kindling nets , and reap

That which your earnest and honest desires command.

For dead is he who forgets to dream .

With him in the grave, his dreams expire. 

By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Life Is Beautiful

Life is beautiful

And can only get better

When our hearts are full

With love and joy, like a letter

From a dearest mother;

Yet quite often, we look out further

For that which is within sight -

Like wayward hunters in the night.

Life is good, when we feel our best

Even when life levies a test:

But thank God for giving us friends

To cherish and share all to the end.

By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Looking Up

   "Of Men & Trees"

Firmly in place she stands
Her woody trunk - a neck so long,
Anchors the canopy's broad strands -
Where birds joyously sing their songs.

What memories  she must hold
Or lessons on living within the means
All through the spanning - new and old?
The answers lie deep , in the rolling stream.

I who has shifted places, searching green
Braving time zones and vicissitudes -
Carting luggages of for every need
Unlike a tree, I spin as yet , the fortune wheel.

Is true contentment an endless quest
Or a kindled awareness of the innate self
As of the olive's sacred bequest ?
The answer may lie in the book of codes upon the shelf .

By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

First Day Of Spring

It's the first day of spring    

Oh what joy it brings!

So long winter blues...

Hello morning dew;

Blues skies,grey skies & scattered showers

First the sprouts and then the flowers

Blooming along the country mile.

If this would last for just a while

I'd find little to moan about-

For what goes around, comes around.

Seasons come and seasons go....

Simple truth every body knows.

By 

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

Warped

When the bar is set so low
For The Don to stoop or squeak,
While his words hit hard like body blows...
The world is warped, and we must speak.



By Hope Kalé Ewusi ©

El soñador

    " the dreamer "  

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 ©