Lines Written On My Birthday Poem by Timothy Faboade

(Composed for Timothy Faboade on his birthday)


Thank you Lord for teaching us to count our days
So we can obediently draw near you
Please, add more to our days and years.
Though from the outset the road is gray
Like a forgotten mustard seed I grow.
Gradually, the glory shines on my brow.
And I am being evacuated from the mire
Which burns me incessantly like fire.

Thank you Lord for teaching us to count our days
So we can obediently draw near you
Please, add more to our days and years.
I'll spend wisely my precious time
And to astray I will never think to go.
From infancy to adolescence I soar
Albeit the brave-less lions' raging roar
Amidst thorns and woods the seed grows.

Thank you Lord for teaching us to count our days
So we can obediently draw near you
Please, add more to our days and years.
The handler of the pen clocks another year
The league of heavenly host valiantly rejoices
Clandestinely, sylphs in their tiny voices
In conjunction with men celebrate the Poet
Showers of blessings in the morn he gets.

Thank you Lord for teaching us to count our days
So we can obediently draw near you
Please, add more to our days and years,
Within twenty-four a day grows and dies,
The sun lives and dies when the moon
In its shyness appears white-black so high,
Now I, the poet, am in my aged noon
Moving without a strand of fear.

The glorious eve of my arrival had done
Leaving an immortal memory of the Great Entry
After twelve months have gone.
As I am busy moulding the story,
Teach me Lord to count my days,
So, I can obediently draw near you
And not move like the world astray
Till I see my noble end in you.