Harmony Iii - Poem by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
And the pulse of the tendril
grew with every rhyme of a
‘Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he...'
Again, the West
‘Mary Mary Quite Contrary
How does your garden grow...? '
One famous sage swore he could
define the word, Tintinnabulation.
And this rang on on the two-portaled chamber.
‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
How I wonder what you are...'
the stars came, blinked and faded.
With them were dusts for lower pollutions.
Even the Great Walls of China were built
in light years - distant properties of the stars.
But what precedes these
or comes after them?
How does one retrieve the booming
voice of a tolling bell hung on
the crest of a sloping village?
No harmony is repeated when given off.
Echoes of a prodigious note do not return.
Sadly, memories are distant images only.
These are footnotes to a living age.
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