A Tale of Our Rainy season
Weary clouds gather over our piecing land.
dark times rush hurrily towards our fields downtown,
Houses southdown.
What again shall this rain fall?
Mighty winds rumble words
Hurriedly against my walls
Knocking lousily
Without permission
Breaking loose my door of wood.
Its about to rain
For the season has come
But shall we put our empty jerry-cans
Into the troubled nature?
The rain that fell yesterday
In due season
Came like this and left
Our houses unplastered,
Our road asphaltless
Our trees seedless.
Shall we sit to look
As our children are blown away
In this torrent of war
That steals the peace of silented village?
Shall we chew kolanut
With a bottle of palm wine
And remain in stupor while we chase a stolen dream?
Alas! This rain stole our farms
From the grip of our self-gods
And returned it to us fruitless:
Is at the verge of pouring
Should we dive into the cheering wind
To dance Azonto?
Remember this rain features the stay of our children from going to the village squares
To learn the talesof art and science.
This rain will fall:
But, we shall close our windows
And doors, snub the roaring
Call of the seductive wind.
Let the rain fall,
We shall fight O’kinsmen.
We shall, shan’t we?
First published on Facebook on 2013-12-05 at this link.