A Song For Gbemi

When it happens, as my pain sharpens
And I feel down, totally downtown
And all my hoping has turned to moping
And life seems dull, a place to fall
And never rise, a lost paradise
And the passing crowd are a dark cloud
And the noonday sun loses its fun
And my friends seem scarce as my hope blends dim
And when all this happens…

Then I remind myself—
this was not the way it was
But life is a cycle itself
What was again will be
And what is will become was.

Flowering Buds

Rotting chaffs
Of
Past harvests,
Stagnant farmlands and wilted gardens,
The darkness of a wasted age.

But then, dawn awakens,
And one stray glance reveals
Out of same wilderness:
Flowering buds
Here and there.