Just when I thought
I should be at peace
By myself, ensconcing
Upon a peace-stool
...
The footsteps to your philosophical path
Nearly tempted me into your philosophical path
But I escaped miraculously to another path
A hair-breadth's escape
...
This Tree planted
By the riverside
Shall never wither
It shall bring forth
...
The fall of that Tree
Not the fault of that Tree
Could be the fault of man
Always disrespecting nature
...
Firm-rooted flowering plants
They begin to sprout and spring
Blossoming, blossoming
Luring me into their circle of blossom
...
Former research fellow, Harvard University, former Director Institute of Creative Writing, Yemi is a luminous literary philosopher, often fascinated by books, letters and the power of words. He has couched over 50 titles of literary works- fiction, nonfiction, plays, poetry and children's stories. His current publication is his memoir, The Birth of a Child in a Fishing Boat.)
Life Is A Whirligig
Just when I thought
I should be at peace
By myself, ensconcing
Upon a peace-stool
Reading or poetizing
Soon, the whirligig
Telling me, 'Be on the move
Your price for being alive.'
Every idea is a thought and every thought is a dot.
Every idea is a thought and every thought is a dot.