spilledwoords
“Poetry burns in our hearts with the passionate heat of a lover’s embrace.”
I AWAIT
Although the ports at the moment
may have lost their bustle and urgency
and the roar of airplanes at the tarmac silent and idle,
very much like empty stands at soccer stadia in Italy,
spectators and gladiators locked-down by an unseen foe.
Although the chattering of voices,
blasting of horns and rendering of curses
at rush hour may have seized at Manhattan and Obanlende*
and the playgrounds at Paris not bearing its fruits –
laughters of children and grins of lovers.
Although the merchants of sin at night hours
have disappeared from red-light lit corners
and the blasting of stereos and pole dancers
sent home – their tempting rags, high heels
and make-up kits without their unbridled stings.
Still, still I await the return of civilization –
when the laws of Humanity will be hardwired in us,
when Nature is naught corrupt and Beauty not sick,
Kindness and Goodness no strangers to our thoughts.
I await the end of this ruin; the end of this pandemic.
When the inordinate pursuit of wealth and the vanity
it afflicts will be dead as soon as born in our hearts,
no more urgent business appointments and meetings
or amoral affairs that deprive us of God and family.
I await the demise of CoVID-19 – the rebirth of civilization.
© Ugo Nkwoala. Spilledwoords, 2020
- Obanlende – a busy commercial hub in Lagos Nigeria.
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