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
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
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!
Damilola Nelson ©