Chants From A Dying Sage Poem by Chinonso Nzeakor

Messenger on a souls errand
When you depart, to relay my story to the world,
After I have crossed, the great sea of rivers
Pray, I beg thee
Tell my story... Well.

Make sure you relate
The adventures of these now feeble knees
Make sure you unroll,
The mat of knowledge
From your shores of memory
Where ancient and modern trays...lie.
Tell them, hidden in the great sagacity
Of this grey forest indenting
The water proof head of a sage
Are buried vestigial seeds of folly
Of reckless nights spent in the open deep

Messenger on a souls errand
Pray, I beg thee
Relate my story...well.

Don't call me rare gem
Do not say, Okokoosisi has fallen
Don't give me veneration meant for a mini god
Indispensable, infallible
Don't call me, great grandfather, master and friend
Simply because, then I would be dead.
Don't paint me as a harmless lamb
Rather, show me to the World as I am
One with strength and flaws, a man
So that, in due course of time
The sons of men...
May learn.

Messenger on a souls errand
Pray I beg thee
Tell my story... Well.

Tell my story
Of years spent under the crescent moon
In glades and deep forests
Pursuing shadows.
Of yesternights spent in an ever moving harbour
Never to arrive at shore, seeking
A treasure chest, that was never there
Of nights spent in the semi dark,
Watching mortals ogle and leer at themselves
In anomalous amorous agitation
Where sons of Adam, sons of Sampson...fell.

Messenger on a souls errand
Pray I beg thee
Relate my story...well.

Tell them
In this world, wherein we live
The hand that gives, also takes
The source of life, also kills
From the mouth of truth, proceeds lies
From the river of sweetness, there is bile.
Tell them, there are always two sides of a coin.
Ay, the mat which welcomes
Also bids
Farewell.

Messenger on a souls errand
When you depart, to relay my story to the world,
After I have crossed, the great sea of rivers
Pray, I beg thee
Tell my story... Well.