You are on page 1of 27

Light rays

At dawn.
1. You know it

I found myself alone in a corridor

Not of brick walls. But of shelves

Of books, in a quiet family home.

Oh! If I may tell you, there were a

Lot of volumes, lots of titles and

Colors in their various combinations.

But there was something about this

Little book, that had no cover pages and

Sure enough, its title had gone with the covers.

Yet surprisingly, its contents were all intact.

Not a page of it missing, because they were

Lines written aforetime for the mind.

On the pages of the heart, which opens

When there’s no obscurity and doubts

In the reflections of the mind.

I may not need to tell you the whole story.

For it’s already in your thoughts. And as such,

They’re quite accessible to you.

But if you may believe,

These are all its contents in brief,

Simple and straight to the point thus;

“Every eyes such as sees,

Sees in three dimensions. But not so the mind,

Which beholds all things in deeper dimensions.”


2. Yesterday’s gone

Life is a bright rose on the lane.

A friend we have but once.

A candle that quickly burns to an end.

A ripple in the rising sun

That grows no more when it sets.

A playground deserted at crepuscule.

Today soon becomes yesterday.

Tomorrow is coming with opportunities.

And forever, yesterday is gone.


3. Mercy

Sin is simply holding

The devil’s paint brush

To paint a portrait that weakens

Us each moment we stare at it.

And a little while we become frail

And a little more we become afraid and

Death comes knocking on our door.

Yet we cry and mercy comes as the light of dawn.


4. Morning sky

So silvery is the sky

When the morning sun

Comes out. Dazzling and hopeful

Is the sky at the break of day.

Mountains of woolly

Clouds behind the bright

And blue sky that makes

Frail the light of the night stars.

But they are all

Fragile and simple realities,

Gracefully formed and beautifully

Fixed to bless the day and mark the night.


5. Monkey pet

Ikom is my mother’s village.

Ikom has an evergreen forest.

Nkanta is my cousin and

Ebuk is my aunty.

They live in a mud hut.

And they drink from a clay pot.

Here sits ebakima, a monkey

That plays like a brother.

Ebakima has a tan fur.

Its eyes are large and round.

It listens as if it hears and laughs as if

It talks. But not while eating bananas.

Ebuk, Nkanta’s mother bought

Ebakima on a great market day

To be Nkanta’s pet in their

Lonely forest hut.

6. Miracles

In bushes of thorns, I see roses.

In an alluvial flint, I behold sparks

Of gold. Prized vessels are of the

Miry clay. And in those ugly and

Hurtful caterpillars, I see butterflies

Of gay colors flying atop trees.

But a perverted mind neither

Sees nor imagines these things. And what

Perverts the mind? One thing; sentiment.

But if this sentiment is replaced by love, I assure

You, when the dawn of this twilight shall come,

Tomorrow will be a beautiful miracle in your eyes.


7. What Love is

Love is the rising of the sun.

It’s the boundless blue sky above.

The woolly clouds and the stormy seas.

The clattering and drizzling rain. The quiet

Ponds and the bubbling springs.

The blooming of the forest and the oasis

Of the desert. The oceans’ pebbles and

The mighty hills. The thorny roses and the

Lilies of the valley. The frail and colorful

Butterflies and the wild, tawny eagles.

When the sun leaves us

A legacy of darkness, love then becomes

The fellowship of the moon with the stars.

The hooting of owls and the drifting

Of cats, bats and rats.

Above all, love in the dark is the

Guidance of angels as we sleep and dream

In the stillness of the night. Love is the

Midnight mist and the morning dew.

The gift of dawn and the light of day.


8. Daybreak

Here the dawn brings forth the day.

A tender sun comes out from the east.

The cock crows and the rivers run into the ocean.

Yet here’s another day we’ll have to

Forgive wrongs darker than death or night.

A day we’ll have to love, and bear.

To hope till Hope creates from its own wreck

The thing it contemplates; neither to change,

Nor falter, nor repent.

For love is the victory of the heart,

Even if it fails and causes us wounds and

Tears. How tender and true such tears shall be.


9. Light and love

Nothing was as good as light

In the beginning of time. And light

Gave definition and meaning to all things.

For as the morning star gives life

And light to our eyes, we see and know

The hour and glory of the day.

And in seeing, admire the sweet

Smelling white, pink and red roses and

Again the wild thorns that laden their stems.

In the living daylight, we see butterflies sucking

Every sweet stuff and hovering above the lawn

Bright, colorful, attractive and inspiring are their wings.

But what were butterflies yesterday?

Butterflies were caterpillars feeding on the bitter

Pigments of leaves. Ugly, destructive and hurtful.

Yet another lesson from the streets;

Nobody is indeed slim or fat, tall or short.

Beautiful, handsome or ugly.

To say that someone’s a white man or

A black man, Christian or Hindu, Asian or

American and whatever, is illusive.

But indeed, one fact is truthful. We’re

Made in the image of a God who’s a

Metaphysical and supernatural being.

And it’s love and love alone that’ll bring us

The enlightenment and liberation to accept

Every race, religion, color and whatever as One.

And until we give in and learn

This supernatural subject of love; progress,

Peace and unity will remain terra incognita.


10. Hurray comrades!

Here we stand in the north,

South, east and west.

In our olive green khaki gears, we’ve

Waved the flag of unity and peace.

Every place we’ve gone in our orange denim

Boots, we’ve left a footprint of integrity and justice.

Looking about, the faces are enormous.

Faces that might not meet, perhaps forever.

But these things are sure and will always be

Our identities, even as we gather here to part.

We’ve finished the race, we’ve fulfilled our vows and

We’ve served our nation, even in her distant places.

Now, one thing is needful, even with tender tears. One last glimpse

Of these great and achieving faces that memory alone will bear.

Let the wings of destiny disperse us to greatness.

And in parting, let us part with joy in safety and peace.

Hurray comrades!


11. They’re my friends

I don’t need those roses

For the sake of thorns and hurts.

Red as they are, and attractive

As you may behold them. But

You wouldn’t dare own them.

But I love and need little and feeble

Toddlers. For their smiles are true and filled

With certainties. In their laughter I can see

A radiance of confidence. And I can always

Enjoy an unending trust in their company.

Hold my hands and take a walk

With me, precious little friends.

Little legs that wander not astray.

Little minds that think not evil and tender

Hearts that share and keep no secrets.


12. Nobody cares

I’m sitting by the roadside,

Beckoning to the passersby and

Beckoning to the maidens.

But nobody cares and nobody stops.

Come sit by me in the shade

Of the palms and ease your day

With a truthful conversation.

But nobody cares and nobody turns.

Busy they walk, undirected

They roam. They dream of rubies.

They wander and gamble for gold.

But nobody cares and nobody hopes.


13. I’ll be beautiful

I am not beautiful and

I don’t have friends. I am

Shy and I dwell behind leaves.

But if you know how beautiful I will

Be tomorrow, you would go borrow

Wings so you could be my friend.

Tomorrow will make me a butterfly

And will give me colorful wings.

I will fly high and I will fly away.


14. Fear

Fear is the only bandit that wears

No mask and holds No gun. But breaks

Right into the hearts of men, even the

Hearts of brave men. Fear will always

Steal a couple of things; peace and confidence.

Then binds the greatest of men,

Makes them feeble, drags them to

Unseen gallows and hangs them with

Unseen ropes. And takes a walk only

When they are dead and cold.

Fear is as invisible as it does not exist. But

Wouldn’t hesitate to take and use any form

The mind creates for it. For fear is birthed and

Nurtured in the mind till it grows and becomes

A slave that rules his master.


15. Life is just a joke!

Life is just a joke.

And everyday meets us with events

That do not conform to reality.

Things that will not be our needs

In an essential world.

Life is just a joke.

How I hate these jokes of life.

How they paint so much a portrait of

Lies to minds that are confined to be

Slaves in a world as free as ours.

Life is just a joke.

I choose the life I knew from birth

I hate and I’m not interested in laws

Formed by mortals like me. For these

Laws could have been their mistakes.

Life is just a joke.

But I choose the life of a creator.

And that takes me faraway from the

Mistakes of men. For the world I dwell

Is but a different world.


16. Lead me

My eyes are on the Lord

For He woke me up this morning

With such a precious gift as Life

He knew me when I was dead

In my sleep. He had stayed by me to

Wake me at dawn and lead me by day

When my path becomes dark,

I will fix my stare in the power
Of His light which gives me life.

17. Faithful

“… When I heard your voice

I hid myself because I was naked.”

Heavenly Father, when my conscience

And guilt wraps me in shame.

Teach my heart to know that your

Chastisement is my redemption.

And your search light of truth

Is my consolation in many afflictions.


18. Victory

I had been filled with

Thoughts and dreams

In the long dark night.

Now I’m awake to plan,

Awake to run, awake to work and

Awake to win glorious triumphs.

I want to dare mighty things.

Stand on my tiptoes and reach,

Even though checked by failures.

Yet I have learnt not to

Lean on my own strength but

On the unlimited energy of Life.

19. I’m a baby in God’s hand

I’m a baby in God’s hand.

He lays me in His palms

To rest in bliss and He hugs

Me tenderly to His chest.

I’m a baby in God’s hand.

He feeds me with the milk

Of grace and pours on me

The fragrance of joy.

I’m a baby in God’s hand.

He keeps watch over me

And shields me from the

Spells of the wicked.

I’m a baby in God’s hand.

He supplies all my needs

Ahead of time and loves me

In my feeble form as much.


20. One life.

I have one ambition;

To move forward.

I have one dream;

To be chaste.
I have one goal;

To see my Lord.


21. Future days

Who knows the days of the future?

Who tells the direction of the wind?

Yet in all, my hope will never dim.

For the future, if there’ll be at all shall

Bloom the gardens and run the streams.

But I’m thankful; I’ve reached yesterday’s future.


22. Little black

Little black had a friend .The first

That taught little black how to play.

A friend that made him wise and glad.

Then little black wandered off his friend,

Went faraway and made himself some

Friends and also taught them how to play.

While playing with his new companions,

Little black remembered he had a friend

Who’d faithfully taught him how to play.

Then he came back home

Staring, creeping and with a

Trembling heart, yet hoping.

And here on his path was the teacher.

A friend trusted than all, coming with a

Radiating smile and with open arms for a hug.

He carried up little black tenderly to

His chest, coddled him and happily

Took little black home again.

While playing with little black

He noticed many strange forms

And had so much pity on him.

Again, he carried him up to his chest.

Browsed through his paws and behold,

A couple of ticks had found a home in-between.

They were actually there to steal

Little black’s peace and also to distract

Him from the warm affections of his friend.

Then love pulled them out and Justice

Slew them. But grace kept the teacher

And little black forever in friendship.

23. Tomorrow

Yesterday is the rear of the future.

Our journey will end where it started.

Tomorrow arrives an hour at a time.

Tomorrow is a story untold. Like hidden

Rubies in the dust, our friends will be strangers

And our dwellings will be in foreign places.

Our destinations are uncertain

But somewhere, our end is certain. Look

Off worries and be enriched with hope

Tomorrow is coming and is coming for the

Prepared. Awake now for tomorrow will come as

The rising sun and will neither wait nor come back again.


24. They’re gone

Some folks have seen the rising sun

But see no more the setting of it. Now, the

Playground is empty our playmates are gone

I’m trying to puzzle out their faces, I’m trying

To recall their names and I’m trying to hear

Their voices as I take this long walk alone in tears

Their laughter and smiles are still real and

True. The smiles they gave away yesterday.

They’re gone! Life has taken them home forever.


25. Sailors’ daybreak

It’s an eve of four seasons,

It’s a shore of rich merchants.

Which language shall we speak

If our home bound voyage anchors

Here and our sailors seek in this

Land their heartfelt desires?

Could this harbor be a seat of

Treasures? Then treasures will we find.

Is it a shore of battle? Then with our blood

And our lives shall we atone. I am the

Trade wind of the north, the sunrise

Of the east and the trident of the seas.

In bravery, my eye sees many

Tears and my heart as a fragment of clay

Fractures each time I’m in strange waters.

But I will keep on sailing, sailing to faraway

Places, sailing for conquest and sailing till

I find freedom in some peaceful island.

26. Abstraction

What we see in objects

Are their behaviors and

Attributes. But the realness

Of every object dwells in

Abstraction, a deeper realm.

Every object achieves its

Identity in abstraction. And

As we behold an object in three

Dimensions, much more will its

Essential characteristics possess.


27. Living hope

Life has its morning

When the man as a baby

Opens his buds as a flower

In the light of a summer day.

Before noon, when the milk is

Gone and the baby becomes a

Lad learning to swim and learning

To think as his horizon begins to broaden.

Then noon meets him as a man. And

The sun beams above his head and subdues

His shadow beneath his feet. He knows

Himself and finds a mate for his brood.

And in the afternoon, when

His shadow flags by his side and

The wave of the ocean knows its calm.

Survival and strives becomes his subjects.

Then the eventide brings

His dreams to life. And the

Gray twilight sky reflects on his

Head, his beard and his needs.

Now the flower of dawn is pollinated,

Its petals shrivel and are ready to drop.

But something will keep him alive when he

Exists no more and his day is made dark with night.

Hope that cannot die, even though he passes on,

Hope that shall raise him up on the morning of the

Saints when the Son shall take the place of the sun

And hope that shall give him another life in the clouds.


28. Christmas day

Rain? No, the east wind is blowing west and

The sun is setting in the dark western skies.

Frail moon, lost stars and a gentle crepuscule

Breeze that makes the pines and the flowers wave.

Listen to the clattering sound of a distant

Cockcrow as the morning becomes dewy and cold.

Though the misty spray of dawn caps the smoldering

Logs with white ashes, a flame will rekindle at sunrise.

This flame shall bring Light to my eyes. And I’m

Thankful it will be the living daylight of Christmas.


29. Night ripples

Let me be alone and sober

For when the clock ticks aloud

And the shadows of the night looms

About me, then will I know the things

That are not written in the pages of books

And hear the words that men seldom speak.

But afar off in the trees, a pigeon calls

And breaks the stillness of the night.

A goat bleats in the farm in want of straw.

The night becomes dewy and water drips

And drops from the roof, creating ripples

In the pond as the village lies dead in sleep.

Now the beam strains and wakes,

The frogs breaks free and take the

Streets. And darkness brings the wild

To hunt their prey. The spider spreads it

Web and the moth meet its death. The serpent

Trails through holes and the mole feels its fang.

The night hours fly and solitude becomes

Grander. But soon the shadows vanishes in the

Emerging sun that starts the day and wakes the

Multitude to the streets. The day groans and

Longs for peace. The sun becomes scorching and plays

Its song which brings life and death to the living race.


30. The sky lark

I love the tawny lark

That sings at dawn.

Not the song it sings

In the light of day.

When twilight is near

And the western skies

Hides the sun. It sits atop

The trees and sings again.

Just a little lark that

Knows its Creator. Living a

Few years but thankful for

Every sunrise and sunset it sees


31.God is here with me!

Found myself alone in the creeks.

Its darkness alone would have scared me.

Let alone the various strange sounds I heard.

But I knew with a conviction

Within me, that I wasn’t ever alone.

For I couldn’t wander away from God’s palms.

So let the night come with its darkness

And let the tempest rage. I’m sure and

Sure enough, that God is here with me!


32. Awake in Zambia

Thy beaming sun feels me with warmth

And such blue skies as yours, another will not

Know except in thee, the horn of the black

Race that hugs the imagination of a white guest.

In thy heart, the magnificent ocean part on

The edge of rocks and a great cry calls out from

The gorge as its waters pour in an unending fall.

And deepen even more the narrow cataract.

The great drop of the falling mist creates

A thundering smoke and an aura of a wild

Chanting call that awakens the ancient

Morris from the creek nurtured woods.

Torrential rain clatters on your stony and fiery

Streets and your narrow lanes meet beauty after

The dust and heat are gone. Mother Zambia is a wondrous

World, a sweet home of haunting songs and rolling drums.

Strong and beautified with the reserves of nature.

An African grace, which of old sat free on the

Heights and thunder breaking at her feet. An adoring

Sight and a range for preying beast and the feeble deer.

Dry your tears so that your fair form may stand and

Shine. Make bright your days and great your dreams.

And forsake the falsehood of extremes that robs you

Of magnificent treasures in some far Isoka Village.


33. Only time

Behind the cold bars of

Hell Where pains and agony

Wraps my feeble frame and

My vision, veiled by the bricks

Of clay. Only time lets me see

The world beyond and walks me

In the streets of the freed.

When in the vessel of trade

I sail in the mist of the seas

Where the raging storm and

Mounting waves toss me to

Every side of the ocean whose

Bounds are the skies. Only time

Will lead me to its tranquil shores.

When life becomes hilly, and

Our routes curve to cacti laden

Paths, friends forsake us as in

Rainy days, its only time that

Shall straighten our routes,

Patch our tents with denim and

Keeps the walk in faithful steps.

Its only time that goes all the

Way and knows no weariness. Its

Only time that unveils the truth.

Its only time that tries all our deeds.

Its only time that will keep our friends

And expose our fiends. And it’s only

Time that knows the story at the End.


Given with joy to Bro. Bondi

By Morgan, Idorenyin Francis,

Mobile +2348067242848