Metamorphosis Poem by Ikechukwu Ogbuike

I am the new born on this side of the horn
That rose from the ashes of reality that was thorn
The privilege of a long ago sacrilege
That has crumbled to the rage of an ordained destiny through which this future must emerge
I am the progeny of I AM
And the road I have been placed on is a virgin territory that has not been ran
I am still called by the name of my ancestors
Four hundred years of rape has not changed the fact that I still remain the anchor
Think I am ordinary
Go take a look then at history
I am the wind
Catch me if you have the mind
I live today
What is forever denied to yesterday
I have died on this bed of lies
Sprouting shoots dug deep into the ground sprayed by a sun rising on a marble of tiles
Braving everything for a little air
I am the comfort that is found in the confidence of a lion as he presides in his lair
I have been recycled in this love that has emptied me of the usual hunting grounds
Where the tales we hear are those told under the umbrella of waning moons
Now I am pattering around picking and throwing away the broken pebbles of former idiosyncrasies
Legacies of subdued aristocracies that seeks for a salve
In a world where there is nothing worthwhile anymore to have than reason that is cut to size
How on earth did I managed to be here, amidst this excess luggage
If not that as a child I was conned to believe of a world to gain following the footsteps of the sage
Now I see that grey hairs and bags under the eyes is as much a definition of wisdom
As absence of a hereditary defect is a true test of character
I have transcended color
I am beyond the eagle as I glide to distant worlds looking for more
Now I do not have any more of the usual excuse for humanities foibles
Life going forward will be more than everything… more than all the possible
My dictionary will no more be can’t or won’t
But an allegory of an artist painting life a sonnet that is blunt
There is something else beyond incredible… it is me being very edible
Come and have your fill
If you do not come with equity, be ready to face the chill
To be drowned requires hearing notes of reason at different decibels and then being trapped into becoming gullible
I am now the majesty
Of a triumph …watch my catwalk it is not hasty
To live a life that is sedate
Requires an entirely different mandate
Some call it fortune
And so it may be, what will they call the rains that fall on this parched earth…
Opportune…
… and so it is too… so true
Possible will always walk the same trail as available
If there is to be such an event as capable
I have ceased to be unknown
To take each day with faith requires sensibilities that is grown
Now I am here
You could say shod of any iota of fear
For He who is responsible for the created
Makes enough room for all enduring desire to be satiated
I have seen in retrospect how I have been a nuisance in all these my years of resistance
Now I choose to be docile…let me share the same affinity with the wind in its consistence
Let me go where the spirit bids this piece of clay
This is never my life to own but a message to hold in confidence until it is time to pay
I am this rare
That attracts a wistful stare
Gliding by
Like the lingering tail end of a lullaby
Let us make anew what is renewable
And open the window so the breeze could blow away all that is detestable
We have been there where the road is said to come to an end
Only to find that here lies a beginning that is unlike the previous life where we pretend
I have also seen hope
And how humility is attached to the end of this rope
It may not happen today, this vibration we yearn for
But that it will happen is certain if we believe it is worth living for
So I bid you to step into this stream that winnows
The moans of the wind as it passes a message that is multiplied in the farm land furrows
To be adaptable
Is to be teachable
To live age
Is to agree motive is not strange
These thoughts are not my thoughts but it is something I must think
In lateral and sometimes parallel anecdotes that have a link
To this reality
In this open season of predetermined fallacy
Death also occurs in the freshness of this new living
As much as new life sprouts from this legacy of daily grieving
Yes, I am the new born
That arose from the ashes of the trail my grandfathers were on
If I genuflect
I do so because life is not lived until it is lived for Him with … respect.