Love’s Undertone

It is a time for quiet.
We behold a landscape in the horizon;
Grey silhouettes against grey skies.
Something in us looks forward to the testing that is to come.
The sea rolls and moans from the seven corners of the earth,
As the forces of life concentrate their energies
Not on display but on survival.

In the beauty of the harmattan sunset,
We could have walked on forever
Through the cacophony of whispers
From the faded leaves of the old trees of our traditions.
Yet, undistorted is this metaphoric symphony
Of life’s oldest tune, beating on the eardrums of our hearts and souls.

The time has come to face the truth,
For we can no longer deny the seasons,
Even as we try to amputate the hands of time.

Why do the birds of the air commune with subdued voices,
As the muted cries of the fish fill the sea?
And why does it take two of a kind o produce another?
Maybe someday, when we get to the depth of the sea
Whose tune our rivers echo incessantly;
The answers shall restore the sublime glory of the earth.

©Uche (2003)