It Is TIme

When the brook dries up it is time for the ravens when the ravens stop it is time for the angels when you have run the journey of 40 nights on the strength of a meal and you're exhausted it is time for the widow woman when the famine has done it's worst and the barrels did not waste it is time to feed from heaven's chefs to be nursed by kings and suck the breast of queens to dwell in houses you did not build to eat from vineyards you did not plant happy birthday it is time for Mrs Olusola Opesanwo

And She Touched

today is like any other
the morning peeps from
under yesterday's darkness

the birds sing
the sun wakes with a wink
the shuffle of feet  and all

today is like any other day for her
only this flow wont stop
today is like the day it all started,just another day

only that hope has drained away
along with it
her time,money,pride,self esteem and youth

what could have become of her family?
her husband and children
her hope,her desires her all

what the doctors left
the quacks took
what the quacks left

life was taking
slowly and painfully
like a guillotine in slow motion

a shred of wasting humanity
her life was like
waiting for the hangman

she measured time
from rays through
the key hole

or from the misery
they called meals
few and far between

but she could hear
firstly whispers
then shouts of joy


she could discern
the mood of passing feet
she could feel unusual energy

then she heard
the blind see
the lame walk

the poor have the gospel
preached to them
even tax collectors returned their loot

she had asked her doctor
who is HE
some apprentice carpenter he mumbles

but can he heal me
you cant go out he says
if i cant help what can he do

but she dares the darkness
she steps into the light
she breaks away from the darkness inside her

if he can raise the dead
then just a fraction of his power will do
she dared the keepers of he law

she touched the skirting of his garment
and it stayed
her darkness shrank before his light

she would have sneaked back
but he turns around asking
who touched me?

in a sea of heads
he could feel every pulse
every seeking heart

the throng pulled and tussled
but she touched
touched with an intent to draw out

she came seeking
she returned healed
emptied of life,she returned full

drained of dignity
she returned dignified
dead she got her life back

she said in herself
if i can touch the helm of his garment
and she touched

My Father,My Father

My Father ,My Father
the chariot of Israel
and the horseman too

My Father
the wheel,the motion,the way
the rudder,the compass,the direction
the chariot of Israel and the horseman

My Father
the endless one,the timeless one,
time,season,age,minutes,
seconds, and every measure of time
the chariot of Israel and the horseman

My Father
the song,the music,the rhyme,the rhythm,
the note,the voice,the pitch,the tone,the melody
the sound and all that soothes the heart
My Father,the chariot of Israel and the horseman

My Father,
the message,the medium,the missive,
the word,the letter,the thought,the thinker
of all said and left unsaid
the chariot of Israel and the horseman

My Father
the story,the plot,the muse,the storyteller,
the narrator,the narrative,the written word
the spoken word, the true and faithful witness
the chariot of Israel and the horseman

My Father
the war,the battle,the bow,the arrow,
the victor,the conqueror,the captain,the banner
the one who leads our victory parade
the chariot of Israel and the horseman

My Father My Father
the hill,the valley,the cleft
the alpha,omega and everything between
my father
the many breasted GOD.

Mowumi,Hurray The Storm Has Lost His Voice

Mowumi,
I can still remember our first meeting
the friendship,trust and  alas its 18 years

i can remember the strolls
the laughter and gentleness
you read my poetry
despite my angst against God
you stomached my oddness
my dressing and weird friends

we had combed the several gardens
friends and nothing more
just very" good friends"
then we lost"friends"also
you lost yours and i lost mine
or did they show their true colours?

we have weathered the storms
sharing a bottle of Pepsi and a snack
heading to Kano and you to Benue
keeping vigils at phone booths
hugging the mouthpiece
straining to hear you
remember the days of NITEL

but the storms kept coming
they were baby ,"toy" storms
then we tied the knot
i had returned from Kano a different man
had burnt my anti -God poetry
we tied our commitment of faith
love and storms gathered

they gathered as fair breeze
gentle ,harmless breeze
they gathered like the evening breeze
then they became stronger
softly at first then the whistle began
to thunder

first, it was my sudden relocation
to Port Harcourt
and the battle for a child
the strange ants,the nightmares
the lost possessions
and the storms gathered
alas in the midst of it a baby girl
a wonderful gift

the sudden move again
the wrong investments of trust and funds
the years of paying what we didn't owe
then when the stern would have
broken from the fierce winds
against the run of predictions
what they called a benign tumour was
a baby boy

we had hardly settled
when my mild side pains became long nights of crying
you often went from hospital to office and back
from scan to scan
and finally the long night of the knife
without hope you were by side
and when the hordes of hell came calling
you would in prayer resist

from theatre to theatre
and i despaired of life
all the horizon was gloom and death
but you were there
daring the storm to do its worst

i cant hold back the tears
 but the long nights are bringing out laughter
strokes that don't break the back make it stronger
then you were at the the very verge of death
the very door of it
the child,the wrong injection
the surgeries and the storm wreaked  its worst
and we buried her
oh death where is your sting?

and then i fell
the round of surgeries again
the spending of time and love
the healing,wearing a wire
and being nursed
but the storm has wreaked its worst

Mowumi,
the storm has lost its breathe
the wind is gone from its sail
our little journey is still on
we started as two
and are now five
Akorede,Iretomilowo and Semilore



Mowumi,
we are are thankful
utterly thankful
for the many miracles
the tokens and the seemingly intangible
we remain steeply thankful
to the Almighty

Mowumi,
the storm has lost its voice
its hoarse strain is barely audible
and we celebrate today
may it be a new day
may the many miracles cement our
commitments
to God and each other

Mowumi,Adenike,Kajotoni
the storm has wilted
its resolve broken
the night has given birth to praise
the sighs to singing
the hissings to hallelujahs
the night is over

Mowumi,
as your days
shall your strength be
you will call one and a million
will answer
the pleasure of the lord will prosper
in your hands

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Let My Heart Call You Lord

i can shout on the roof top
wave my hands and sing
i can speak the language of angels
and make beautiful noise
i can close my eyes and raise my hands
in adoration
but lord
let my heart call you lord

let my will lay prostrate before yours
let my preferences submit to yours
let my convenience be easily replaced by yours
let my songs be the melody of your heart
let my pulse be your heart beat
let my heart call you lord

let my will bow when it really matters
in the little issues that don't seem to matter
let you be lord indeed
in closet and in the open
let my mild fantasies and wild passions
have a master in you
let my heart call you lord

and lord
when it is in my power to act
when i need no help to accomplish
and the choices are all mine
and seem good
may i still bow and make your choice
mine
let my heart call you lord

let my heart bow to you
in want and plenty
and all in between
and when I'm so sure i am right
and when I'm so sure i have the answers
let my heart still bow and say
lord be the master of my heart and all.