Coming Of A Messenger - Poem by Daniel Sefudi
Far, far south in Mother Africa
Where the Springbok prances and sprints
Where the Leopard sprawls upon a tree branch
To camouflage its presence in he polka-dotted shade
Where the Hippopotamus thumps the ground with muzzle
Where the tottering Tortoise makes tortuous, soundless
To mark a countdown on eternity.
Where the Zebra kicks the air with vigor
Where the hyper active Monkey plays hide and seek
Where the proud Silver back prances and shouts
To alert his ape community of approaching danger
Where the Crocodile with its sinister grin
Ominously way lays the unsuspecting prey.
The land of the Elephant
Shall be one who will be
The beloved choice of the cosmic masters
His hand shall bear mark of divine skill
His head shall bear the crown of enlightenment
His forehead shall emit a trail of shimmering light
Which shall surround him in a vibrant violet aura
That will dispel the darkness of ignorance
Darkness that covered the yestertime world.
He shall cross the threshold of cosmic consciousness
Wit his physical vision veiled
His kith and kin shall turn against him
They shall dine and wine while whispering scandals
Saying he has immersed himself fin diabolic folly
But, as sure as sunlight follows night darkness
He too shall rise to shine bright.
The alienated shall turn back again and say
We know him as of long time ago
He is a spinner O true dreams
He is a weaver of divine visions
A true messenger of love ...
They shall sing: For us a messenger of love is born
To us a messenger of love is sent
Let all heaven and earth sing!
On who abides within the LOVE OF GOD is among us
Through him shall shine the LOVE OF GOD for all creatures to see
All creation shall sing with joy and thankfulness.
Let the sounds of sweet voices ring
Night and day to herald good tidings!
Comments about Coming Of A Messenger by Daniel Sefudi
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye