Once In A Year Poem by Obi Ogbuehi

ONCE IN A YEAR
I Am Moved By A Thousand Voices.
I Shake To The Stomp Of A Hundred Feet.
I Love The Feel
Of The Knife On The Coal-tar,
It Can Send The Chill
Down The Spine Of A Stranger
But The Place Of The Knife
Is The Sheath.
Once In A Year,
We Are Moved By The Bang
Of The Cone And
The Gun Powder,
As We Go In Search Of The Shrouded One,
We Are Moved By The Rythm Of Many Drums
Lined Up According To Sizes,
For The Joy Of The Day
Is The Dance.
At Last We Leap For Joy!
When The Goat's Head Is Severed
By A Single Blow
For The Land Had Decreed
That It Should Be So.