Page 5 - Poems Vol 1

THE RAIN OF RIGHT

I

Biafra, my heart, I vomited twice today.

Gowon, you weren't there, laughing,
Stretching the rice-paper lessons you learnt.
From us.

Facts?
Facts!

Yesterday and everyday,
I shook the hand of the armourer.

Yes, the gunsmith.
I all but cocked the bolt.

I knew, I shall always know
The factory-wall facts,
The painful, pitiful,

The suspension, the duty and the sword.

But shall we always find them?

Shall we, like the birds,
Always see the sun yet fail to burn?

II

Clasped in the embrace of my present,

I saw, approaching, an old man,
Grey-locked, languid.

Prophetic a vision as this,
I remained, rooted, a welcoming

Hand extended.

He had, not with him,

But observing, the fierce Sun
With all his legions of time.

I asked the only question,
Who he was,

But forcibly, fain, he passed me.