Godwin Inyang's Blog

The sky beams, birds sing, Butterflies and grass dance in The heavenly grace. The dark clouds are gone. The trees now undressed can bathe In warmth of the sun. Bees flit between buds, Kissing the tender lips of Petals for nectar. Fragrance and aromas Waft through the harmattan haze. It’s the season’s meet: Where herons inspect The hide of grazing cattle In the fields for fleas; Kids with bright eyes check Every pack dad and mum bring back For shiny new stuff. Grace meets greed; love lust: Like the dry season’s brightness, God’s love shines on us. (The verse is taken from my collection, 'Colours {of Life, Love and Faith}'.)

 

In all aspects of life, you’d find thorns and flowers: Sleazy shacks beside glittering city towers; Massive talents emerging from slimy slum gutters; Gilded jails for some starry-eyed gold-diggers.   Thorns and flowers among lovely sons and daughters; Thorns and flowers among great mothers and fathers; Thorns and flowers in the clock chiming the hours; Thorns and flowers as birds flap their wings and clean their feathers.   The hawk eyes the sparrow in sunshine and showers. In the red-light zone, you’d find these among the hustlers. Thorns and flowers among mediocrities and superpowers. Thorns and flowers from nursery to ivory towers.   Presidents, senators, governors and ministers. Thorns and flowers far and near, novices and masters. Thorns and flowers among shrine, mosque and church worshippers. Thorns and flowers in a breeze that turns a gale and hollers   At buildings, then everything on its path down it hammers. Thorns ...

‘What insensitive siblings!’ mouth did say; Letting its long-drawn-out seething overflow. ‘I, all the time give; out of it now I’d stay. If you can’t give, don’t take – that you must know.’   ‘You’d pick the food and eat,’ hand said in reply; ‘From now on I’m not a part of feeding you!’ ‘And you’d walk to market the food to buy,’ Foot added, ‘and feel too the pinch of the shoe.’   Eye, ear and nose joined in the rebellion And they turned to mock navel and hair. ‘I linked you all to mother at creation,’ Navel said, ‘so what nonsense now do you blare?’   ‘Go ahead you all,’ hair intoned, ‘yes, be bold. Leave me and see if you’d survive the cold!’ ‘In being one, no part is irrelevant,’ Nail at last quipped, ‘though the size is like an ant.’ (Verse is taken from my collection, #Colours_of_Life_Love_and_Faith)