(Snapsong 187)
I
That number sounds so heavy
I can hardly lift it with my tongue
Its span springs a distance un-measurable
By the stretch of any ruler
The sun’s silent steps across
The infinity of the sky
The concourse of the clouds
Which drill and drop the rains
Night after night after night
We sleep in the songs
Which sleep in us, dance with the dawn
Whose drum provokes our day
We rise, unaware,
As those songs sizzle into see-suns
Stir into seasons when the tree’s green promise
Yellows into edible consumations
And the seeds which broke the sod
Laugh soundlessly at harvestide
Time always tells its story
Even when our ears are usurped by jubilant echoes
Unforgettable,
Those dusky days in Akure Oloyemekun
When Dawn lifted its delicate dust
And a new and complex day was born