At The Promontory Poem by Goodness Tchibueze

The cloud was fast gathering and
She had sat there
For a too taut time,
On the lip of the promontory
Which overlooked the ocean:
She was dressed in a blue gown
Which paired with the ocean's,
A notepad laid by her left side.
The wind was playing with her hair
And she did not stir.

What sight has ever marveled the sun,
Or has ever made him queasy and pale?
I was some slim steps faroff
Writing, watching and waiting,
All at once, and resolved
Not to intrude her state.
While i was not done
She was, as things implied, done;

And with the foremost droppings
Of the downpour, she dropped
Into the ocean; the downpour ceased!

Fire ants of shock
Stung me up on my feet,
And i went to where she had sat:
Picked, and read the note;
Lo, she had written so much
In a few fine lines:

'...We're in a free world
That costs so much;
A small world vaster than itself,
Shallow yet deeper than its base,
Promising success through Golgotha.
A world that bestows victory
After nailing you to its cross...
Oh, oh... what a world!
Since there'll always be the sun,
I'll give myself to the ocean
For my spirit to rise with her's
And fall with the rain through
The cycle that sustains the water;
And i shall be dropping with the rain,
No more from the lip of any promontory,
But from the lip of the cloud.'