Transitions

Transitions: To live or to live!

Do you think

The butterfly remembers

Life as a voracious larva

With many teeth

Devouring green leaves?

Does she still remember

The taste of sap

Now that her mouth

Is sewn up tight

As she flutters softly

From plant to plant

Carrying pollen on dainty feet

And laying dusty eggs?

If she had a dream

While she was crunching leaves

Of spinning pure silk

To make a gown

Did she spin it out of control

Entangling herself in coil after coil

Until she was cocooned

From head to toe?

Then in the darkness unknown to her

She changed from a worm

To an airborne delight

With angel wings

Silk spun, pure gold

Sequined and glittering in the sun.

Do you think she minds

This butterfly

That she has no mouth

No appetite for moist

And chewy tropical leaves

Is she content to live her life

A pretty thing for eyes to see

Twin wings glistening in the light?

Concave Forests

After a month of frustration, reading about the rantings of the two-time coup maker, revolutionary leader, dictator, ex-president of Ghana, on his new project of becoming the First Lord to his wife's proposed bid for the presidency of Ghana, I have released Concave Forests to encourage the journalists, historians and writers of Ghana, to take pains to write accurately about the times we live in. We must preserve the news, histories and thereby the future from news-boomers and their version of the unfolding of deeds and misdeeds.

Concave Forests

IN SPITE of lullabies

Do not hush your voice, 

Or yield the pointed eagle claw

By which you tattoo,

Hieroglyphics

On the bark of trees

Confirmed to live now

And never die

Song birds of the Savannah

I sing to you,

Brightly plumed in primary colors

Inhabiting rectangular forests of pine,

And all the while 

Crooning in the forgotten tongues

Of ghosts from a far away land

Where forests are concave 

And filled with the blood and bones

Of histories, 

Waiting to be told

And futures

Waiting to unfold

C is for Contentment

Contentment is by far the most moderate and peaceable of feelings, nurturing of life and wellbeing, and yet so unrecognized by many in our fast paced world until it disappears. If you have known her, you will be loathe to let her go.

C is for Contentment

Contentment is only remembered

After her goodbyes have been said

Like sinus rhythm patterns played a lifetime

On good cardiac muscle

Inside a body that hears it not

Whether asleep or awake

Until the first missed beat

Gives rise to another

And sirens flashing fear

Tear through the quiet night.