Mosi Mustapha Gomina (Ogori..)

There, the orange sun has burnt itself out.
The dark veil is hauled over the starred sky.
The blue-berried moon now lingers about.
Every mortal temporarily dies.

The steady chirping of crickets is born;
It's cry wandering about the empty space;
In preparation for a new dawn;
The cloak of existence; another phase.

The mortal man's consciousness is stripped down;
Revealing the silver-lined path of dreams.
Their spirits attired in a new gown
Diurnal thoughts arriving the starry scenes.

'tis within this period that horses fly;
'tis within this period the old turn young;
'tis within this period that horror dies;
'tis mother Nature hitting the night gong.

Alas; e'en the lame are permitted walk;
The once inactive eyes are given sight;
'tis the period you hear the dumb child talk;
All in the ceremony of the night.

Then the pains of childbirth; halting it all;
Nature squeals as a new daylight is born;
The dawn, fore-runner, heeding heeding the call;
As the new sun steps out the horizon.

Men resume snoring, murmuring vile words;
The cock crows, saying he said it before;
The crown of reality is restored;
As the sun's seeds now populate the shores.