under the lone glow
an island of attention,
a vulnerable picture –
pouring out your heart,
a river of candid songs.
How come such tenderness,
from a heart full of scars?
You teach me forgiveness
under a tungsten lamp.
O Songstress, O Songstress,
I hear this river of songs –
sometimes as fast as a flood,
now and again slow as twilight –
pouring out of your wounded heart.
How come such passion
from a soul full of fissures?
You teach me endurance
on a loney island.
O Songstress, O Songstress,
I hear this river of songs
sometimes soft as a whisper,
streaming out of your heart.
© Emman Usman Shehu
- Published in the Sunday Sun, Lagos, on 26 November 2006. Reproduced with permission.
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