The Wake Up Call Poem by Opoku AfriyieAsante

Still entangled beneath this orphic reverie,
I hear not from afar the sound of music from the tree,
The tree with an improbable shade that modulates an obscure orchestra
from the east winds,
To my hearing, its every strum of the strings of a new year,

Just as every season succumbs to the thread that weaves life,
I find the chord that composes all breath ineffable,
It seems enthusing hearing the nimble journey of air revolving amidst my
very existence and relinquishing news that I still live,
To my hearing, its every tick of the clock that I grow old,

The hustle from adrenalin reverts my hideous retentivity,
I allow that strange pool of fear to seep through an exhale,
This fear that the fourth dimension may never know this world cradles
my visions of that second chance,
To my hearing, its every beam of the light which calls us to glory,

Once pulled from the wreck of resplendent sorrow,
I may now know all that I never could have envisioned,
Indeed, this is the place time is born; my heart turns weightless
with the still comfort of endlessness,
To my hearing, its every ounce of peace in eternity

Now I hear this name that echoes as a phonation by clouds,
I smell this name even when its reverberation evanesces,
Indeed, I have been called by the Omnipotent, Omnipresent and Omniscient;
His presence hovering from the brightest and most glorious light brings me to my knees
To my hearing, its every divine blessing i was refused in my time of life

If this is all a dream, then truly, i'll awake someday and heed to that calling.


January 18,2011