Owiwi We Have Come A Long Way

On my writing table

Sitting in front of my sickly friend

With a broken spinal cord

Typing away my dreams

Aloud I hear the cries of the preacher man

Shouting Jah!

Jah micheal he says...

Not again! must I be interrupted from my thoughts?

the only succour I find solace in.

Alas I wonder what the little bird has done to him

Why he reprimands him in such curel manners?

The poor thing as only perched on an antenna in a neighbours compound! Yet the preacher worries...

He worries of the evils the OWIWI bears

Just as they worry when we cross the sea

Hmmm! OWIWI

Perhaps I do not share this thoughts

For when I see you I see a white bird

With binocular eyes trying to find rest in unpleasant places

I know in your wisdom and patience white bird

you wonder why the man in white cassock is scared of you.

I also in my wonderment I probe you...

but why do you put yourself through this constant scrutiny from the preacher?

Why don't you leave and find succour somewhere else?

Why don't you go into the woods?

Then it dawned on me

There are no woods for the poor owl

Just as there is no room for a deamer in search for a break through in a shit hole

He his a city owl

Oh city owl! sorry,

There are no more trees just houses and high rise buildings

We have cut down the trees,

globalisation and industrialisation we call it,

Just as we have eaten our reserves and now we claim nationalities that don't want us in their lands.

Just like the preacher they Jah us!

How stressful it is for you my friend to perch on an antenna and call that a comforting nest.

Same stress that I feel when I still try to hold on to my believes of a fatherland or at least motherland.

Sometimes i wish you can revolt and be ferocious as a tiger

But I the writer won't be safe either

So be the gentle OWIWI

And bear the preachers brunt

As I have endured the world's scorn

And if it gets too much fly away

At least you have wings I do not...

I walk through mine and when it gets too much I dance

And when anxiety and depression overwhelmes me

I cry in my dark corners

So dear friend I shall wait for you tonight like every other night to come perch on my neighbours antenna

And give the poor preacher something to worry about...

We all need his prayers.

So long dear friend same time, same place we both will be

Each to his troubles but interrupted by a common voice.

The percher's anthem. Jah!

Jah Micheal!

Damilola Nelson ©