Village boy Impressions

From the east, a golden-sun  rises proud and majestic, Shining in all brilliance and delight. His rays strike with fierce-some joy Upon the bare brown earth, with Not a cloud in the heavens to stay them. Energy gushes forth in torrents, Birds, beasts, gods, and mortals Glow with vigour and intent . The Drums sound, the flutes call, The birds chirp, the doves coo, Goats and sheep, rams and bulls Bleat and moo in joyous ecstasy. Kids and calves bray and fray  Smoke rises from cooking places. It is Feok! A hallowed day, a merry day; Bubbly with contentment and laughter. Today we drink, and we eat, We celebrate and  make merry And dance with grace and skill The rhythm of our land. Like one mighty beating heart, The land throbs with graceful steps. The hills ring with voices of song As we recall the valour and skill, The courage and strength, And the charity of our fathers, Who rose against the cowardly Babatu an d his marauding beasts; And slew an

Photo Credit: Franz Kröger All over the land of Buluk, over hills and fields  Where long grass grows and stout trees thrive   The trade wind comes racing, swelling about the trees   What news from the north, Oh hurrying wind?   What tidings do you bear in your dusty breeze?   Have you seen Azantilow the tall and mighty   By sun, moon or by starlight bright?   Where now is he, the bold, the ancient, the brave?   Maybe you have heard the horn of the son of  Ayieta.   Echoing in the hills and vales of the land Upon azagsuk , long I stood and listened Under the shade of acham I tarried in vain Tell me not that he is no more! But alas, his horn is silent, and his feet are cold The north wind is still, impotent with tears                             Read:  Village Boy Impressions - The Song of Atuga Towards akumcham ever shall I gaze There our foes fled in dismay Before its dying stump, ever I sigh Under its withered crown ever I wait, O, Ayieta b

There is a house, half in ruins At the other end of the village Battered and ravaged by wind and rain Half the walls lie prostrate As in obeisance to an unseen god. The mud roof has fallen through The thatch roof cries for a layer All the timber is rotten with age And there is no gate or door To cover the nakedness of that house If only there was a father to build! Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Once A Giant Walked the Earth     There is a field down yonder Where thick and tall weeds grow And strangle the infant crop; The millet is yellow and dwarfish,  The corn is stunted and cobless,  And the cowpea run podless,  There is no hope for a harvest All are accounted as forage No blade to the sward is laid For there is no father to till!          There is a boy and his sister in the city Their beauty you must look hard to see Their nostrils run like streams Their nails are long and black Flies and all insects go after them They sleep in sigh

Not for death! Not for death!  But for life among the deathless  In ageless, changeless, greener lands Where no stain nor tear can abide Therefrom your labour, you rest,  Robed in glory.  But on this hallowed spot of Balansa,  Lies your mortal remains;  Agandin, son of Adaayomah,  Loving father and devoted husband.  In that hour set with your maker,  But unbeknownst to us mortal men,  You made your bow in peace and quiet. Read Here:  Village Boy Impressions - Father's Epitaph You were the fountain of life  The light of hope The captain in life’s ocean,  My biggest fan and coach.  Under your watchful, caring gaze I raced with the swift Your words of caution  Lending motion to my little feet. But in my innocence,  I forgot you were my force of gravity.  You ceased whilst I was in mid-race Now I have to lift my own foot And bring it down! Alas for me! The blazing sun did set at noon! The eagles stopped in mid-flight The birds quieted in mid-song Even the c