Not a poet by accident
Overheard one morning from a soulful exchange)
You are no poet by accident
For you didn’t wake up one morning
To a medley of songs beneath your pillow
Begging for a place between your lips
You are no poet by accident
For no riffs rushed down your rafter
With you scampering around the room
Knowing not what to do with
A sudden barrage of blessings
While a strange wind walloped the walls
As the door creaked between its posts
Like a sentry with a half-open mouth
You are no poet by accident
For the sun stood sky-centre
The day you were born
The light which peeped between the curtains
Was soft and blissfully bright.
Lyrical hands bathed you in singing water
The household was one happy chorus
Of the anthem of your melodious arrival
Calm clay cushioned your toddling steps
Gentle rains nurtured your tuneful leaps
Your lullaby was love and lilting lilies
Ebony-born, with a song for every season.